THE    CIRCUS-RIDER'S 
DAUGHTER. 


JUSr  TUBUSHED. 

THE  OUTLAW  OF  CAM  ARGUE 

By  A.  de  Lamothe.    Translated  by  Anna  T.  Sadlier. 

/  2  mo,  cloth,  special  design  on  side,  $1.2^. 


The  story  opens  with  a  charming  picture  of  Proven- 
9al  manners  toward  the  end  of  the  last  century,  showing 
the  simple  happy  life  of  the  people,  their  daily  pursuits, 
their  loves,  their  sports,  the  reverence  of  the  tenant  for  the 
feudal  lord,  and  the  unaffected  piety  of  peasant  and  peer. 

The  description  of  the  rude,  semi-barbarous  game  of 
throwing  the  bull  is  as  exciting  in  its  way  as  the  chariot 
race  of  "Ben  Hur." 

Suddenly  the  quiet  of  the  scene  is  broken,  and  the 
Revolution, with  its  murderous  knife  and  incendiary  torch, 
is  ushered  in.  This  part  of  the  book  is  deeply  touching, 
and  callous,  indeed,  must  be  the  heart  which  is  not  moved 
by  the  deep  and  unswerving  devotion  of  old  Bernard  for 
his  foster-child,  or  the  greed  and  treachery  of  the  scoun- 
drel Marius.  Our  space  will  not  permit  an  extended  sketch 
of  the  plot,  but  we  assure  our  readers  that  the  book  will 
well  repay  a  reading. 


BENZIGER  BROTHERS,  New  York,  Cincinnati,  Chicago. 


F.   V.    BRACKEL. 


THE 


CIRCUS-RIDER'S  DAUGHTER. 


TRANSLATED    BY 


Mary  A.  Mitchell. 


NEW  YORK,   CINCINNATI,  CHICAGO: 

BENZIGER    BROTHERS, 

Printers  to  the  Holy  Apostolic  See. 


MK- 


Copyright,  1896,  by  Benziger  Brothers. 


THE   CIRCUS-RIDER'S   DAUGHTER. 


CHAPTER  I. 

ON  a  sofa  in  one  of  the  most  elegant  apartments  in 
the  "  Imperial  Hotel"  at  Geneva  a  young  woman 
reclined  who,  although  not  strictly  beautiful,  presented 
a  charming  picture  as  she  lay  there,  her  head  envel- 
oped in  a  black  lace  veil,  from  which  her  flaxen  locks 
fell  in  heavy  masses  on  the  scarlet  cushion,  while  her 
hands  gracefully  rested  in  her  lap. 

Everything  about  her  seemed  so  frail  that  involun- 
tarily one  shrank  from  such  delicacy,  which,  with  per- 
sons as  with  things,  seems,  alas  !  to  bloom  only  to  die. 

Her  extreme  quiet  was  evidently  compulsory  from 
weakness,  for  at  the  slightest  noise  her  quick  gaze  wan- 
dered impatiently  to  a  small  travelling  clock  which  stood 
on  the  table  near  the  sofa.  As  the  hands  of  the  time- 
piece gradually  advanced  she  could  no  longer  repress 
her  restlessness,  and,  half  rising,  she  called  to  an  old 
woman  whose  stout  figure  was  often  visible  passing  the 
door.  "Annie,"  and,  notwitlistanding  the  effort  she 
made,  the  voice  was  hardly  audible — "  Annie,  is  Miss 
Nora  not  yet  returned  ?" 

"  The  little  miss  is  still  with   the  master,"  replied  the 


6  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

woman  in  a  broken  accent,  which,  together  with  her 
bronzed  complexion  and  marked  countenance,  betrayed 
her  foreign  origin.  "  Little  miss  is  safe  with  the  mas- 
ter ;  missus  need  not  be  uneasy.  She  come  when  it  be 
time  ;  master  never  come  home  before  seven." 

"  He  must  have  taken  her  there  again,"  whispered 
the  young  woman  to  herself.  "  Oh,  he  knows  not 
what  he  does.  I  must  speak  to  him.  My  poor  child  ! 
My  poor  child  !" 

Either  the  talking  or  the  agitation  brought  on  a  vio- 
lent, dry  cough,  which  so  overcame  her  that  her  head 
fell  back  wearily. 

"  Why  will  missus  distress  herself  for  nothing  ?"  said 
the  old  servant  querulously.  "  Missus  make  herself 
sick,  and  master  will  then  be  angry  ;  when  missus  was 
young  she  was  mild  and  patient,  but  now  she  be  like 
the  fire-flame." 

"  Then  I  had  no  one  to  care  for,  old  Annie.  Mamma 
and  you  took  care  of  me  ;  and  then,  too,  I  was  in  good 
health,"  she  added  with  a  sigh. 

"  You  could  be  in  good  health  now,  too,  if  you 
would,"  muttered  the  old  woman;  "but  this  unquiet 
life  wears  you  out." 

No,  no,  it  is  not  the  life — I  am  so  tenderly  cared 
for.  It  lies  here,"  and  she  pressed  her  hand  to  her 
heart.  "  Something  is  wrong  here.  But  listen — here 
they  are,  Annie." 

Quick,  light  steps  were  heard,  and  in  the  next  moment 
the  door  was  thrown  open  and  a  little  girl  bounded  into 
the  room  and  threw  herself   impetuously  on  the  invalid. 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  7 

"  Mamma,  mamma,"  she  cried,  "  I  can  do  it  beauti- 
fully. I  can  ride  standing  like  Fraulein  Elisa,  and 
spring  through  the  hoop." 

"  How  heated  you  are,  my  darlingj!"  said  the  mother, 
as  she  stroked  the  girl's  black  hair  back  from  her  fore- 
head. "  Oh,  Alfred,  you  took  her  again  !"  she  said  re- 
proachfully to  a  tall,  large  man  who  followed  the  child. 
How  do  you  feel,  my  love  ?"  said  he,  bending  over 
her  to  press  a  kiss  upon  her  forehead,  regardless  of  the 
reproachful  tone. 

"  Oh,  Alfred  !"  she  repeated,  and  looked  at  him  with 
tearful  ej^es. 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  walked  impatiently  to 
a  window,  but  the  little  one  drew  down  her  mother's 
face  and  continued  to  repeat, ' '  Oh,  mamma,  listen  to  me  ; 
I  rode  standing,  and  jumped  through  the  hoop  much 
better  than  the  little  Wimbledon,  who  very  nearly  fell." 

"  You  must  change  your  dress,  Nora,"  interrupted 
the  father.      "  Go  with  Annie  and  let  her  assist  you." 

"  Presently,  papa.  But  listen  to  me,  mamma  ;  just 
as  we  came  into  the  ring  papa  put  me  on  the  new  pony. ' ' 

"  Helena,  how  can  you  be  so  foolish  as  to  keep  the 
child  ?"  said  the  man,  returning.  "  Nora,  I  tell  you 
once  more  go  dress  for  dinner." 

"  Go,  darling  ;  you  can  tell  me  later,' '  said  the  mother. 

The  little  one,  frightened  by  the  unaccustomed  sever- 
ity of  her  father's  tone,  left  the  room. 

The  invalid  lay  quietly  back  and  the  man  remained 
silently  standing  by  the  window. 

"  Alfred,"  said  the  woman  weakly  after  a  pause,  and 


8  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

she  Stretched  toward  him  her  hand,  which  he  took  and 
raised  to  his  lips,  saying,  "  Shall  we  be  friends  ?"  and 
his  dark  eyes  shone  with  a  mischievous  good  humor. 

"  Oh,  come  to  me  ;  it  is  so  long  since  I  have  had  a 
chance  to  be  alone  with  you,"  she  replied  tenderly,  as 
she  clung  to  him. 

He  drew  a  chair  close  to  her  couch,  and  sitting  upon 
it,  placed  his  arm  around  her  so  that  her  head  could 
rest  upon  his  shoulder.  "  Now  for  a  sermon,"  said  he 
half  jestingly.  "  Now  I  cannot  escape  ;  and  I  see  in 
your  eye  the  question.  Why  do  you  take  Nora  with  you  ?" 

"  You  have  read  aright.  Yes  ;  why  have  you  done  it 
when  I  besought  you  not  to  ?" 

"  Why  ?  You  women  are  dreadful  with  your  lahys. 
Now,  simply  because  I  could  not  help  it.  The  child  has 
remarkable  talent — as  graceful  as  a  young  fairy,  as 
brave  as  a  man.  Why  should  I  not  have  the  gratifica- 
tion of  bringing  my  child  up  to  my  own  profession  ? 
She  will  be  a  circus-rider  of  the  first  rank,"  said  he  en- 
thusiastically. 

"  My  daughter  a  circus-rider  !"  murmured  Helena  in 
agony. 

"  Helena,  you  married  a  circus-rider." 

"  Oh,  that  is  different.  A  man  may  elevate  his 
business.  Adverse  circumstances  forced  your  choice, 
and  you,  my  husband,  have  converted  a  light  amuse- 
ment into  an  art."      Her  eyes  turned  to  him  proudly. 

"  Adverse  circumstances  drove  me.  Yes,  but  who 
knows  if  any  other  calling  would  have  been  so  success- 
ful for  me  as  this  free,  independent  one  has  been  .''" 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  9 

"  Formerly  you  thought  differently,"  she  suggested 
timidly. 

"  Formerly  !"  he  repeated.  "  Do  you  mean  when  I 
wooed  you,  when  the  future  was  uncertain,  when  the 
wounds  of  the  past  were  reopened  and  showed  at  its 
brightest  what  I  had  lost  ?  Then  was  my  calling  hate- 
ful to  me,"  said  he,  covering  his  eyes  with  his  hand,  as 
if  to  shut  out  a  terrible  picture.  "  But,"  he  continued, 
"  that  is  now  forgotten." 

She  looked  up  at  him  hesitatingly,  and  said  :  "  Alfred, 
what  drove  you  to  adopt  this  extraordinary  calling  ?" 

"  Extraordinary  calling  f"  he  repeated  with  bitterness. 
"  You  put  it  as  gently  as  possible.  Well,  principally, 
perhaps,  my  nature.  You  must  have  inherited  very 
little  of  Eve's  inquisitiveness,  little  wife  ;  you  have  in- 
quired so  seldom  into  my  past.     Were  you  afraid  ?" 

"  No  ;  love  cannot  exist  with  mistrust.  The  past 
was  yours  ;  the  present  and  the  future  mine,  and  they 
are  sufficient."  There  was  something  touchingly  con- 
fiding in  her  tone 

"  My  sweet  wife,"  said  he,  as  he  kissed  her  forehead 
and  drew  her  more  closely  to  him.  "  Helena,  it  were 
better  that  I  remained  silent  ;  but  though  my  life  has 
had  many  dark  hours,  it  has  no  stain,  no  disappointed 
hopes,  as  is  often  the  case  in  a  struggling  life.  You 
know  that  the  name  I  bear  is  not  rightfully  my  own. 
My  father  was  descended  from  an  old  and  noble  French 
family.  Restless  blood  coursed  in  his  veins  ;  he  was 
one  of  the  few  among  the  aristocracy  who  joined  in  the 
revolution,   and    in  consequence  he  was  obliged  to  quit 


lO  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

his  native  land,  and  resided  a  long  time  in  Germany, 
where  he  married.  In  one  of  the  last  battles  he  died, 
and  left  my  mother  penniless  with  three  children.  My 
remembrance  of  my  parents'  home  is  not  happy.  The 
contrasts  were  too  strong,  the  dispositions  too  different, 
and  circumstances  contributed  to  increase  the  unfavor- 
able impression  made  on  me.  My  mother's  relatives, 
who  were  in  high  military  and  State  positions,  seeing 
that  I  had  a  taste  for  the  army,  used  their  influence  to 
obtain  my  admission  into  a  military  school.  Toward 
my  mother  I  had  become  most  impetuous.  What  she 
had  overlooked  in  the  father  shocked  her  in  the  son. 
Her  passive  nature  could  not  understand  me.  It  seems 
a  strange  contradiction  that  the  French  characteristics 
in  an  individual  have  a  fascination  for  the  Germans, 
who  hate  the  French  nation.  My  name,  my  foreign 
appearance,  and  my  lively  nature  won  me  friends  in 
school,  and  I  shone  brilliantly  among  my  more  apathetic 
companions  ;  while  my  quick  talent,  my  agility,  and 
my  easily  excited  ambition  made  me  the  darling  of  my 
teachers.  Unfortunately  they  called  my  wild  pranks 
humor,  which  made  my  vanity  grow  apace,  and  I  prided 
myself  on  my  French  extraction  too  much. 

"  Had  the  time  been  one  of  activity  I  might  have 
achieved  something,  but  it  was  a  peaceful  year,  and  the 
formal  duties  of  a  small  garrison,  together  with  the  pit- 
tance of  a  lieutenant  without  private  means,  little  tallied 
with  my  visions  of  military  glory.  Now  I  appreciate 
the  use  of  formal  discipline,  but  then  it  was  but  idle 
play  to  me,  and  I  fretted  under  the  restraint. 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  II 

"  However,  I  had  no  choice  ;  my  path  in  life  seemed 
to  lead  to  this  career.  My  immediate  superior  may 
have  been  more  punctilious  than  was  necessary,  and, 
old  follower  of  the  war  of  independence  as  he  was,  he 
hated  what  he  considered  my  French  vanity.  He  lost 
no  opportunity  to  make  me  feel  his  importance.  This 
state  of  things  developed  in  me  faults  of  my  double 
nationality." 

"  But  you  have  also  the  virtues  of  both  nations  ;  you 
have  the  German  spirit,"  interrupted  Helena  lovingly. 

"At  all  events,  German  obstinacy,"  he  continued. 
"  A  severe  reprimand,  which  I  considered  unjust, 
brought  about  the  long-expected  break.  I  thought 
myself  insulted,  and  I  demanded  an  explanation  from 
my  superior,  which  he  declined  to  give  on  military 
grounds,  and  my  violence  knew  no  bounds  and  brought 
on  me  a  severe  punishment.  Nothing  remained  for  me 
but  to  take  the  first  opportunity  to  insult  him  in  private 
life,  so  as  to  force  him  to  ask  satisfaction  of  me.  We 
fought,  and  my  ball  was  so  well  aimed  that  he  died  that 
night  from  the  wound  I  gave  him.  The  laws  against 
duelling  were  so  severe  that  it  was  impossible  for  me  to 
remain  in  the  country,  much  less  in  the  army.  My 
friends  assisted  me  to  escape,  and  I  wandered  to  the 
New  World. 

"  At  first  a  feeling  of  recovered  freedom  took  posses- 
sion of  me.  I  was  young  and  gay,  and  a  new  land  was 
open  to  me,  but  the  stern  reality  soon  made  itself  felt, 
and  I  saw  myself  with  nothing  but  my  own  exertions  to 
depend  upon.     My  education  and  tastes   prompted  me 


I 

12  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

to  seek  a  respectable  situation,  but  I  could  find  nothing 
for  which  I  was  fitted.  For  some  positions  I  was  too 
II  highly  educated,  while  for  others  I  was  not  practical 
enough.  This  is  the  stuff  that  makes  the  adventurer. 
While  I  found  it  hard  to  wring  a  living  out  of  the  low- 
est avocations,  accident  made  me  acquainted  with  a  set 
of  hunters  who  lived  by  the  chase  and  training  wild 
horses.  This  suited  my  restless  nature,  and  I  joined 
my  lot  to  that  of  these  rough  fellows.  My  superiority 
in  shooting  and  riding  soon  impressed  them,  and  in  the 
management  of  wild  horses  I  showed  from  the  begin- 
ning my  mastery  over  animals.  I  learned  from  my  com- 
panions, who  had  carried  on  the  business  a  long  time  ; 
more  from  the  Indians,  with  whom  we  often  traded  in 
our  excursions  on  the  prairies.  Many  an  equestrian 
feat  by  which  I  now  gain  the  applause  of  tlie  public  was 
taught  me  by  the  red  man. 

"  In  this  manner  I  spent  many  years,  and  in  the 
wilderness  difference  of  position  is  soon  lost  sight  of. 
One  year,  however,  hunting  had  become  dangerous  on 
account  of  the  war  between  unfriendly  tribes,  so  it 
b  occurred  to  one  of  our  company  (who  was  a  real  Yankee 
(  in  resources)  to  exhibit  our  trained  horses,  an  idea  born 
of  accident  and  discouragement  and  lack  of  employ- 
ment. Nothing  better  offered,  so  we  gladly  adopted 
the  suggestion  ;  and  as  the  first  experiment  in  a  small 
town  succeeded  so  much  better  than  we  could  have 
anticipated,  we  determined  to  follow  it  up.  Our  ex- 
hibitions, though  of  the  most  primitive  nature,  were 
entirely  new.     My  recollections  of  similar  amusements 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  13 

in  the  old  country  were  of  great  use  to  us,  and  the 
training  and  beauty  of  the  horses,  as  well  as  the  reck- 
less daring  of  the  men,  pleased  the  people,  who  mar- 
velled at  our  ingenuity. 

"  We  travelled  from  State  to  State,  earning  money 
and  renown.  You  know  that  when  the  American's  curi-i 
osity  is  awakened  he  will  spare  no  trouble  to  gratif}^  it.' 
As  long  as  we  remained  in  small  places  I  found  nothing 
very  unpleasant  in  my  position.  The  experience  of  the 
last  few  years  had  hardened  me  ;  but  when  I  came  face 
to  face  with  those  to  whose  ciicles  I  had  once  belonged 
a  feeling  awoke  in  me  which  I  could  not  overcome. 
Particularly  bitter  seemed  my  fate  the  first  evening 
your  sweet  face  in  the  audience  made  me  realize  how 
far  my  avocation  had  removed  me  from  the  charms  of 
woman's  society.  That  hour  showed  me  all  that  I  had 
lost  in  the  treasures  which  I  once  possessed  in  name 
and  standing,  and  which  circumstances  had  now  closed 
to  me.  We  only  learn  to  value  a  thing  when  it  is  lost 
to  us  forever.     I  was  inexpressibly  unhappy. 

"  It  was  the  custom  there  as  it  is  here  for  the  young 
people  of  fashion  to  visit  the  circus  in  the  forenoon,  and 
it  was  in  this  way  that  I  made  the  acquaintance  of  your 
brother,  whose  resemblance  to  you  attracted  me  to  him. 
The  purchase  of  a  horse  brought  us  together.  He  rec- 
ognized the  man  of  education  in  me,  and  was  very 
friendly,  while  to  me  it  was  an  indescribable  happiness 
to  meet  one  of  my  own  rank  in  early  life. 

"  Change  of  circumstances  is  too  common  a  thing  in 
America  not  to  meet  with   indulgence,    so  when   your 


14  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

brother  learned  my  history  he  became  a  true  friend. 
Through  my  now  large  income  I  was  able  to  sustain 
myself  in  the  social  circle  into  which  he  introduced  me. 
There  I  met  you,  Helena,  and,  thanks  to  American  in- 
dependence, I  was  able  to  approach  you.  What  fol- 
lowed you  know,  sweetheart.  You  returned  my  love 
bravely.  Your  faith  in  him  raised  the  disheartened 
man  in  his  own  estimation.  Your  parents  saw  in  me 
only  the  adventurer,  the  man  of  questionable  calling. 
In  order  to  prove  myself  worthy  of  your  confidence  I 
resolved  to  bring  my  business  to  the  highest  perfection 
in  its  way.  My  companions  had  long  admitted  that  I 
was  the  mainspring  of  the  enterprise,  that  it  was  my 
mind  which  directed  it,  so  it  was  an  easy  matter  to 
manage  them  and  to  carry  out  my  plans.  As  manager 
of  the  circus  I  felt  secure  of  the  future,  and  knew  what 
I  could  do,  and,  Helena,  I  have  done  it.  Have  we  not 
been  happy?"  A  look  of  the  deepest  tenderness  ac- 
companied the  question. 

"Almost  too  happy,"  she  replied,  clinging  to  him 
closely. 

"  No,  no,  not  too  happy.  I  set  sail  at  full  tide,  and 
am  not  disappointed  with  the  anchorage.  My  restless 
blood  and  northern  heart  have  both  been  satisfied,  and 
out  of  a  wandering  life  I  have  wrung  a  peaceful  happi- 
ness. Now,  little  wife,  do  not  borrow  trouble.  Will 
you  not  trust  me  to  guide  the  bark  which  I  launched  V 
He  spoke  with  the  self-possession  of  a  man  who  owed 
everything  to  his  own  exertions. 

"  Nora  !"    said   the  wife  after  a  pause,  and  turning 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  15 

her  eyes  away  from  him.  A  cloud  swept  across  his  face 
as  he  said  hastily  : 

"  You  women  are  dreadfully  obstinate,  always  re- 
turning to  the  same  thing.     What  about  the  child  ?" 

"  Alfred,  you  foster  this  taste  in  her  too  much." 

In  spite  of  himself  he  laughed  as  he  said  :  "  Wait  ten 
years  or  so  until  the  predilection  becomes  dangerous  ; 
in  the  mean  time  let  her  love  the  noble  animals  that 
have  brought  fortune  and  renown  to  her  father.  I  have 
already  told  you  that  she  inherits  the  taste.  I  cannot 
be  persuaded  otherwise.  Let  me  train  her.  In  my 
hands  she  will  earn  more  applause  than  with  any  other 
instructor.  Although  it  is,  as  you  say,  a  strange  calling, 
you  see  it  is  not  devoid  of  happiness." 

"  Alfred,  you  cannot  mean  it  !"  she  shrieked,  and 
suddenly  raised  herself  up.  "  You  cannot  doom  my 
daughter,  your  child,  to  such  a  fate  !  Was  it  for  this 
that  you  told  me  the  story  of  your  life  ?  Life  is  not 
the  same  thing  for  man  and  for  woman.  I  have  already 
tried  to  make  you  understand  this  ;  the  latter  is  bound 
to  the  place  she  first  selects,  and  think  what  a  fate  this — 
to  be  gazed  at  by  an  unsympathetic  public,  to-day 
its  plaything,  to-morrow  its  jibe  !  I  am  sick  and  weak, 
but  I  will  save  my  child." 

Such  a  look  of  daring  resolution  lit  up  her  soft  blue 
eyes  that  Karsten  shrank  back  involuntarily  and  cried 
out,  "  Helena,  you  are  raving.  From  what  will  you 
save  the  child  ?  Of  what  danger  are  you  dreaming  ? 
She  is  under  your  protection.  Teach  her  to  be  as  good 
and  sweet  as  you  are,  and  let  us  await  the  future." 


l6  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

"  Under  my  protection,  you  say  ?"  There  was  some- 
thing unearthly  in  the  tone  of  her  voice  as  she  wrung 
her  thin,  white  liands.  "  Teach  her  to  be  good  and 
sweet  ?  Oh,  no  ;  not  so,  not  so.  If  you  choose  this 
career  for  her,  take  her  away.  Let  her  mix  with  those 
who  are  to  live  that  life,  so  that  her  feelings  may  be 
blunted  and  she  may  never  know  what  a  woman  should 
know,  nor  have  higher  aspirations  than  to  win  a  pa- 
per wreath  and  the  shouted  applause  of  the  gaping 
crowd  !" 

"  You  are  bitter,"  he  moaned,  springing  to  his  feet. 
"  What  has  come  over  you,  my  gentle  wife  ?" 

"A  mother's  fear,  the  terror  of  a  mother  about  to 
lose  her  child.  Alfred,  Alfred  !"  she  cried  in  a  weak, 
supplicating  tone,  "  come  here.  Listen  to  what  I  have 
thought  in  those  long,  sleepless  nights  when  Nora's 
future  passed  before  me.     Oh,  my  husband,  listen  !" 

He  went  to  her  side,  and  kneeling  before  her,  with 
his  hand  on  her  cold,  moist  brow,  said  :  "  You  agitate 
yourself,  love.  Be  quiet  now,  and  let  us  speak  of  this 
another  time." 

"  No,  not  another  time — to-day.  It  would  grow  only 
all  the  harder."  The  sick  woman  threw  her  arm  around 
her  husband's  neck  and  continued,  while  her  eye  beamed 
with  all  the  magic  of  the  maiden's  glance  pleading  with 
her  lover.  "  Listen  to  me,  Alfred.  I  had  so  sweet  a 
dream.  You  are  now  rich.  You  have  gained  wealth 
and  renown  in  your  calling.  Man  must  not  stretch 
Fortune's  cord  too  tightly.  Let  it  go.  Do  not  venture 
farther.      Return  to  my  home.      If  it  pleases  you   pur- 


THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER.  17 

chase  it,  and  secure  for  yourself  and  your  child  a  happy 
future  among  congenial  surroundings." 

He  looked  at  her  puzzled  and  astonished,  for  he  never 
anticipated  such  a  proposition  ;  then  he  said  sorrow- 
fully, "  You  consider  your  child's  happiness  more  than 
your  husband's." 

"  Oh,  no  ;  your  happiness,  too."  She  ran  her  soft 
hand  through  his  thick,  dark  hair.  "  Your  happiness, 
too.  A  hundred  chances  may  rob  you  of  all  you  have. 
And  I  believe,  too,  that  I  am  homesick.  Perhaps  I 
might  get  well,"  she  added,  but  her  lowered  gaze  con- 
tradicted what  her  lips  expressed.  She  remained  silent 
like  one  awaiting  sentence. 

Slowly  Karsten  released  himself  from  her  arms  and 
paced  the  room,  buried  in  deep  thought  ;  then,  standing 
before  her,  he  said  : 

"  You  have  only  considered  the  child,  not  yourself, 
for  you  have  never  wished  to  go  back,  Helena.  I  cannot, 
I  cannot.  What  was  once  hard  has  become  the  pleasure, 
the  pride  of  my  life.  I  cannot  become  a  cultivator  of 
the  soil,  much  less  rust  in  leisure.  But  be  satisfied," 
he  continued,  as  he  saw  a  deathly  pallor  spread  over 
her  countenance.  "  Sacrifice  for  sacrifice  !  Take  your 
child  ;  leave  me  my  avocation.  This  is  a  sacrifice  for 
me.  Bring  her  up  in  woman's  ways  if  the  mad-cap  will 
allow  it.  Possibly  I  could  not  protect  the  daughter  as 
I  did  the  mother.  I  promise  you  never  to  bring  her  in 
contact  with  my  business.  I  promise  you  never  to  in- 
terfere with  her  education  and  always  to  support  your 
opinions  sacredly.     Are  you  satisfied,  little  wife  ?" 


l8  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

He  bent  affectionately  over  her  as  she  lay  exhausted 
on  the  cushions.  She  remained  silent,  her  lids  tightly 
closed  and  her  hands  pressed  convulsively  together. 
He  repeated,  "  Are  you  contented  ?  When  Nora  is 
grown,  the  money  which  her  father's  strange  calling  has 
amassed  will  enable  her  to  live  in  luxury.  You  see  I 
have  looked  even  to  the  very  end,  and  now  let  me  gaze 
into  your  blue  eyes  that  have  won  so  much." 

Perhaps  she  thought  she  had  not  won  so  much.  How 
much  more  had  she  hoped  for  ?  Her  husband's  voice 
had  always  possessed  a  singular  charm  for  her,  and  ex- 
ercised a  powerful  influence  over  her  since  the  first  time 
she  had  heard  it.  To-day  it  lost  none  of  its  strength. 
He  kissed  those  beautiful  eyes,  in  which  he  read  only 
tranquillity.  He  whispered  all  those  loving  assurances 
so  dear  to  a  wife's  heart.  She  was  not  satisfied  with 
his  plan,  in  which  she  saw  much  that  was  vain  and  im- 
practicable, but  she  had  gained  something  for  her  child. 

As  often  occurs  to  feeble  persons,  her  violent  agita- 
tion was  followed  suddenly  by  extreme  exhaustion. 
Karsten  observed  this,  and  lifting  her  tenderly  from 
the  cushions,  laid  her  on  her  bed  and  prepared  to  go 
out,  for  he  had  much  to  do. 

"  I  shall  take  Nora  to  dinner  with  me,"  he  said,  "  that 
you  may  rest  ;  in  the  afternoon  you  can  have  her  all  to 
yourself." 

She  seemed  not  to  hear  him  ;  so  telling  the  maid  to  be 
careful  of  her  mistress,  and  calling  his  little  girl,  he  left 
the  apartment  very  quietly. 

Helena  was  alone.     The  dreamy  quiet  in  which  she 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  I9 

lay  could  not  be  called  sleep,  for  she  was  quite  con- 
scious, and  as  soon  as  the  spell  of  Alfred's  voice  and 
presence  was  removed  all  her  fears  came  back  with 
redoubled  force. 

"  Mother,  mother,"  she  cried  aloud,  "  take  back 
that  word  that  I  would  repent  of  what  I  was  doing  !  I 
have  been  so  happy.  It  is  only  the  child."  Hastily, 
as  if  seeking  peace,  she  pressed  a  little  cross  to  her  lips. 

Helena  was  the  daughter  of  Irish  parents,  who  when 
she  was  but  a  child  emigrated  to  America,  taking  with 
them  considerable  means.  Something  in  the  light- 
hearted  passion  of  her  nation  had  attracted  the  pious, 
strictly  brought-up  girl  to  the  handsome  adventurer. 
After  a  struggle  her  parents  gave  their  permission  to 
the  marriage,  on  condition  that  she  should  be  always 
kept  from  contact  with  the  members  of  the  circus  com- 
pany. 

Karsten  was  faithful  to  these  conditions,  and  the 
lovely  bride  possessed  in  an  eminent  degree  all  the 
charms  peculiar  to  the  daughters  of  Erin,  and  was  the 
precious  jewel  of  her  husband's  fiery  heart.  He  loved 
Helena  with  a  devotion  unusual  in  one  of  so  restless  a 
disposition.  His  wife  was  to  him  like  an  echo  from  his 
early  life,  and  filled  the  void  which  he  felt  in  his  pres- 
ent position.  Shortly  after  their  marriage  they  went  to 
Europe,  where  he  had  wonderful  success,  and  soon 
held  acknowledged  precedence  in  his  profession.  His 
distinguished  appearance  and  his  early  education  secured 
him  a  certain  toleration  among  the  better  classes  in  the 
principal  cities,  where  his  coming   was  hailed  with  gen- 


20  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

eral  enthusiasm.  He  surrounded  his  wife  with  all  the 
comfort  and  luxury  which  his  continually  increasing 
income  could  well  afford,  and  she  never  missed  society, 
for  she  lived  in  her  love  for  her  husband  and  child,  and 
had  sufficient  variety  in  their  wandering  life. 

The  first  shadow  that  fell  across  their  path  of  happi- 
ness was  Helena's  delicacy,  which  followed  the  birth  of 
their  second  child,  who  died  in  infancy.  Alfred  seemed 
unconscious  of  the  progress  of  her  malady,  or  perhaps 
he  tried  to  deceive  himself,  fearing  to  think  of  the  re- 
sult. She,  however,  was  not  so  hopeful,  and  this  natu- 
rally increased  her  solicitude  for  tlie  future  of  her  child. 

She  was  not  satisfied  with  the  last  conversation  with 
her  husband,  for  both  offered  to  make  a  sacrifice  which 
each  felt  would  be  vain. 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 


CHAPTER  II. 

AFTER  leaving  his  wife  Karsten  entered  the  dining- 
room  holding  his  little  girl  by  the  hand.  It  was 
in  the  height  of  the  travelling  season,  and  the  large 
room  was  filled  with  guests  of  all  ranks,  but  every  eye 
was  turned  on  the  commanding-looking  man  and  the 
beautiful  child  at  his  side. 

Nora,  now  seven  years  old,  was  a  remarkable-looking 
child.  The  easy,  independent  pose,  the  regular  features, 
arched  brows  and  dark  hair,  which  she  inherited  from 
her  father,  with  the  fair  complexion  and  blue  eyes  of 
her  mother,  made  a  striking  combination.  Her  dress 
was  white,  and  its  English  style  left  the  neck  and  arms 
entirely  free.  Her  dark  hair  fell  in  long  curls  down  her 
back.  She  moved  down  the  crowded  room  with  quiet 
composure,  and  as  her  father  placed  her  near  him  in  a 
seat  which  some  gentlemen  of  his  acquaintance  had  re- 
served for  him,  she  received  the  little  jests  and  compli- 
ments which  are  generally  bestowed  on  an  attractive 
child  with  the  condescension  of  a  princess  and  the  in- 
difference of  long  habit. 

The  conversation  soon  wandered  to  the  immediate 
affairs  of  the  director,  whose  experience  and  extensive 
travels  gave  them  peculiar  interest  ;  but  notwithstand- 
ing Nora's  love  for  her  father's  wonderful  animals,  the 
particulars   discussed   soon   went    beyond    her   childish 


22  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

understanding,  and  her  gaze  wandered  through  the 
room.  Suddenly  her  eyes  brightened  ;  newly  arrived 
guests  were  entering,  and  the  presence  of  some  children 
about  her  own  age  among  them  awakened  her  interest. 
1/   Youth  is  always  attracted  by  youth. 

To  Nora's  delight  the  strangers  were  placed  near  her. 
A  distinguished-looking  woman  led  by  the  hand  a  little 
girl  some  years  younger  than  Nora,  and  clad  in  deep 
mourning.  Two  boys  followed  with  a  tutor,  whose 
black  dress  bespoke  his  clerical  character.  The  lady 
and  the  little  girl  sat  at  one  side  of  the  table,  and  the 
tutor  and  the  boys  took  seats  which  made  the  older  of 
the  latter  Nora's  immediate  neighbor.  Boy-like,  he 
did  not  notice  her,  and  seemed  exclusively  occupied 
with  his  meal.  The  lady,  however,  looked  at  the  little 
one,  whose  earnest  eyes  betrayed  how  much  she  would 
like  to  wile  away  time  by  chatting. 

Nora  could  no  longer  control  her  impatience,  and 
with  the  freemasonry  that  brings  the  untutored  together, 
she  addressed  her  neighbor  with  the  child's  question, 
"  What  is  your  name  ?"  The  boy  looked  astonished, 
but  his  thirteen-years'-old  dignity  was  soon  under  the 
spell  of  the  pretty  speaker,  and  they  entered  into  con- 
versation. The  lady  and  the  clergyman  too  joined,  in- 
terested by  the  winning  ways  of  the  little  giil,  who  told 
them  of  her  sick  mamma  and  of  her  travels.  She  was 
quite  at  home  in  many  of  the  European  languages. 
After  a  while  her  father  made  her  a  sign  to  follow 
him.  Being  so  interested  in  the  conversation  of  his 
friends,  he  had  not  noticed  the  entrance  of  the  strangers. 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  23 

Nora  left  her  new  friends  with  lier  own  winsome 
grace,  and  they  were  so  much  struck  with  Alfred's  ap- 
pearance, that  the  lady  inquired  of  the  waiter,  who  had 
bowed  to  the  director  with  that  deference  always  begot- 
ten either  by  position  or  feeing,  "  Who  was  that  gentle- 
man with  the  beautiful  child  ?" 

"That  is  Karsten,  the  renowned  circus  director," 
whispered  the  man  subserviently,  and  following  the 
questioning  look  of  the  lady. 

"  The  circus  director  !"  repeated  the  lady  incredu- 
lously, and  with  a  look  of  disappointment. 

"  Certainly,  your  ladyship.  His  is  the  world-re- 
nowned circus,  and  the  child  is  his  little  daughter. 
They  have  been  here  for  some  time,  and  his  wife  is 
very  sick.  In  a  few  days  the  circus  will  open,"  con- 
tinued the  waiter. 

"  Oh,  Karsten,  Karsten,  mamma  !"  exclaimed  both 
the  boys.  "  We  must  see  him,  he  has  such  beautiful 
horses.     Mamma,  you  surely  will  let  us  go  ?" 

All  was  still  in  Helena's  room.  She  had  eaten  noth- 
ing for  several  hours,  and  remained  perfectly  motion- 
less on  her  couch.  The  excitement  of  the  morning 
seemed  to  have  exhausted  her.  No  word  passed  her  lips, 
but  the  short,  dry  cough  returned  from  time  to  time. 

The  maid,  hoping  that  her  mistress  slept,  prevented 
the  child  going  into  the  room,  so  the  little  thing  fol- 
lowed her  advice  and  went  into  the  hall  to  play,  hoping 
to  meet  her  new  acquaintances  ;  and  she  was  not  dis- 
appointed. Looking  dreamily  over  the  balustrade  down 
into  the  lower  hall,  where  a  crowd  of  people  were  talk- 


24  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

ing,  she  saw  the  clergyman  with  his  young  charges  com- 
ing up  the  stairs. 

"All  alone  and  so  quiet?"  said  the  priest  to  her 
kindly. 

,      "  Papa  is  gone  out,  and  mamma  is  asleep,  and  Annie 
:is  cross,"  was  the  reply. 

"  Three  unfortunate  things  for  you  ;  and  so  you  are 
lonely,"  continued  the  chaplain  with  a  smile. 

"  1  thought  you  might  come,  for  I  heard  your  little 
girl  crying  in  there,"  said  Nora,  as  she  pointed  to  a 
door. 

"  Yes,  Lily  is  there  with  mamma,"  answered  the  elder 
boy,  bending  his  long  legs  so  as  to  touch  her  shoulder 
with  his  hand.     "  Come  in  with  us." 

"  I  must  not  go  with  strangers,  mamma  has  always 
forbidden  it,  but  I  can  play  here,"  she  said  longingly. 

"  Well,  we  will  play  with  you.  You  have  no  objec- 
tion, have  you  ?"   said  the  boy,  addressing  the  priest. 

The  clergyman  nodded  consent  ;  the  child  interested 
him  deeply. 

"  What  can  you  play  ?  Can  you  jump  the  rope  ?" 
said  the  boy,  noticing  the  skipping-rope,  which  she  had 
brought  from  her  room,  thinking  the  hall  a  good  place 
to  use  it. 

"  Can  I  ?"  she  said  disdainfully.  "  Much  better  than 
you  think,  if  you  will  only  turn  it." 

The  boy  complied  with  the  suggestion.  The  little  girl 
threw  back  her  dark  hair,  raised  her  arms,  lifted  herself 
on  her  toes,  and  danced  and  turned  under  and  over  the 
quickly  moving  rope  with  the  grace  of  a  fairy. 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  25 

The  loud  applause  of  the  boys  suddenly  stopped  her, 
and  she  said,  "  I  learned  that  from  Frjiulein  Emily, 
but  I  should  not  have  done  it  ;  mamma  cannot  bear 
that  I  should  do  so  before  strangers."  She  sat  down 
embarrassed  and  grieved. 

Why  cannot  your  mamma  bear  it  ?"  said  the  chap- 
Iain  v^ith  increasing  interest. 

"  Mamma  says  it  is  not  nice  to  let  one's  self  be  seen 
so  ;  she  is  not  pleased  when  I  ride  either." 

"  Does  your  mamma  ride  ?"   he  pursued. 

"  My  mamma  ride  !"  cried  the  child,  with  an  inde- 
scribably haughty  air,  and  throwing  her  little  head  high 
in  the  air.     "  My  papa's  people  do  that  for  money." 

"  But  can  you  ride  well  ?"  asked  the  boys  in  surprise. 

"  Of  course  I  ride,  and  drive,  too,"  she  answered 
with  a  shrug  of  the  shoulders.  "  I  have  four  ponies 
which  are  mine  alone.  You  can  see  them  when  you  go 
to  the  circus.  The  little  Wimbledon  goes  to  the  post 
with  them.  I  lent  them  to  her  for  this  purpose,  but  I 
can  drive  them  better  myself." 

The  boys  opened  their  eyes  wide  with  astonishment  as 
they  said,  "  Can  you  really,  really  drive  ?" 

"  Yes,  six-in-hand,"  she  replied  firml}'.  "This  spring 
I  drove  my  ponies  entirely  alone  in  the  presence  of  the 
Emperor  in  St.  Petersburg.  He  would  not  believe  papa 
that  I  could,  so,  after  much  coaxing,  mamma  allowed 
me  to  show  him.  I  am  not  quite  sure  what  the  Em- 
peror said."  She  sat  down  quietly,  but  with  an  air 
which  showed  plainly  that  she  would  like  to  be  ques- 
tioned. 


26  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

"  Oh,  what  did  he  say  ?"  inquired  the  listeners. 
First  he  took  me  in  his  arms  and  kissed  me  and 
gave  me  this,"  showing  a  heart  set  with  diamonds 
which  she  wore  suspended  from  her  neck  ;  "  but  you 
must  not  laugh,"  she  added,  as  she  turned  to  Curt,  the 
eldest  boy,  whose  mouth  showed  a  suspicious  expres- 
sion. 

"What  else  did  the  Emperor  say?"  persisted  the 
latter. 

"  He  said — he  said,  '  Karsten,  she  will  yet  throw 
others  in  the  shade  and  make  the  world  talk.'  Now 
you  may  laugh,"  she  added,  as  she  sat  down  with  such 
a  vexed  expression  that  the  priest  could  not  suppress  a 
smile. 

Curt,  however,  turned  a  deep  red  at  her  words  and 
said  decidedly,  "  I  am  not  laughing.  Your  mamma  is 
quite  right  ;  it  is  not  pretty  for  a  young  lady  to  exhibit 
herself  so.  I  would  be  very  sorry  to  hear  you  spoken 
of  as  a  circus-rider,  and  it  would  be  a  great  misfortune 
for  you." 

The  boy  spoke  hastily,  but  the  girl  looked  at  him  con- 
fusedly, a  look  of  mortification  overspreading  her  face. 
He  quickly  perceived  it,  and  was  pained.  Kneeling 
before  her,  he  stroked  her  hair  back  from  her  forehead 
and  said  affectionately,  "  Now  do  not  be  angry  with 
me  ;  you  will  not  be  a  circus-rider,  will  you  ?  But  have 
you  learned  nothing  else  but  to  ride  and  drive  ?" 

"  Oh,  ever  so  much  more,"  quickly  replied  the  girl. 
"  Every  day  I  have  lessons  with  mamma,  besides  other 
teachers.      I  can  read  and  write  in  three  languages,  and 


THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER.  27 

I  also  know  my  catechism."  She  said  this  latter  with 
a  look  at  the  chaplain,  as  if  she  knew  that  he  would 
approve  particularly  of  this  last  accomplishment. 

"  Who  instructed  you  in  that  ?"  asked  the  priest,  an- 
swering her  look. 

"  Mamma,  every  day,  and  I  have  also  been  to  con- 
fession.    You  are  a  priest  ;  I  knew  that  at  once." 

"  Indeed  ;  how  did  you  discover  that  ?" 

"  Oh,  I  know  many  priests.  Whenever  we  arrive  in 
a  city  where  we  are  to  remain  long  mamma  always  takes 
me  to  see  them  to  be  examined.  My  mamma  is  very 
pious  ;  she  goes  to  church  every  day,  but  now  she  is 
sick."     In  this  manner  she  chatted  on. 

"That  is  very  good  of  your  mamma,"  repb'ed  the 
chaplain,  deeply  impressed  with  this  sketch  of  the 
mother's  care  for  her  child's  soul  in  the  midst  of  such  a 
wandering  life.      "  I  hope  you  also  will  be  very  pious." 

"  Are  you  good  ?"  said  the  child  to  the  astonished 
Curt. 

"  That  is  for  your  sermon.  Curt,"  said  the  priest 
kindly  ;  "  but  come,  my  boy,  your  mother  will  be  wait- 
ing for  you." 

"  No,  no  ;  stay  a  little  while  longer  !"  cried  Nora,  as 
she  held  Curt  fast  by  the  hand.  "  Let  your  brother 
go."  She  looked  at  him  imploringly,  which  was  not 
disagreeable  to  the  boy  ;  who  looked  on  her  as  a  new 
and  wonderful   plaything. 

"  What  a  queer  little  thing  you  are  !"  he  said  ;  "  but 
there  is  mamma,"  he  added,  rising  as  his^mother  came 
out  of  a  room  on  the  corridor. 


28  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

"  What  are  you  all  doing  ?"  said  the  lady,  as  she  ad- 
vanced to  the  group. 

The  chaplain  was  about  to  give  an  explanation,  when 
another  door  was  opened  by  a  wild,  strange-looking 
woman.  She  approached  the  countess,  who  drew  back 
as  if  from  a  maniac. 

"  Oh,  help,  help  !"  cried  the  woman  in  broken  speech 
and  wringing  her  hands.  "  Missus  die  !  Missus  die  ! 
and  no  one  there  to  help  her." 

"  What  is  she  saying  ?"  asked  the  countess  ;  but  Nora 
threw  herself  in  the  old  woman's  arms  crying,  "  This 
is  my  Annie.     Annie,  what  is  the  matter  ?" 

"  Oh,  Miss  Nora,  mamma  is  sick  and  massa  away  !" 

"  Mamma  is  sick,"  repeated  the  child,  as  she  burst 
into  tears.      "  Oh,  mamma,  mamma  !" 

"  There  seems  help  needed,  your  reverence,"  said  the 
countess.  "  Will  you  try  to  find  out  from  the  woman 
who  the  lady's  husband  is,  and  where  he  is  staying, 
that  I  may  know  what  to  do  ?"  and  without  any  more 
hesitation  she  went  to  the  sick-room,  led  by  the  cries 
of  the  child. 

Helena  was  still  lying  on  the  couch,  but  her  head  had 
fallen  back  ;  her  lovely  features  seemed  convulsed,  and 
a  stream  of  blood  flowing  from  her  lips  showed  but  too 
plainly  what  had  occurred.  Across  the  mother  lay  the 
little  girl,  calling  her  loving  names,  which,  alas  !  fell 
unheeded  on  unconscious  ears.  Curt,  who  had  fol- 
lowed, was  trying  to  console  the  child.  The  countess, 
quickly  taking  in  the  situation,  whispered  to  her  son, 
"  Try  to  get  the  child  away  that  she  may  not  agitate 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  29 

the  mother,  and  then  call  a  physician."  She  then  ap- 
proached the  sick  woman,  placed  her  head  gently  in  a  bet- 
ter position,  bathed  her  temples,  and  moistened  her  lips. 

"  Mother,"  whispered  the  invalid,  as  she  opened  her 
eyes  wide  ;  but  they  wore  a  questioning  expression  as 
they  fell  on  the  unknown  face. 

"  Be  perfectly  quiet,"  said  the  countess  gently  ;  "  I 
am  a  friend  whom  an  accident  brought  into  your  sick- 
room. Allow  me  to  care  for  you  until  your  husband 
comes.     I  have  already  sent  for  him." 

A  look  of  gratitude  rewarded  her,  and  then  the  weary 
eyes  again  closed.  Helena  breathed  with  difficulty,  and 
a  hollow  rattle  was  heard  in  the  throat.  The  countess 
looked  attentively  at  her  ;  she  saw  the  dark  shadows 
creep  around  the  eyes  and  the  drawn  look  settle  on  the 
mouth  ;  she  also  noticed  a  prayer-book  lying  near  the 
travelling  clock,  and  in  the  folds  of  the  bed-clothes  a 
rosary,  which  seemed  to  have  fallen  from  the  sick  wom- 
an's hand.  Low  and  distinctly  the  countess  said,  "  Is 
there  any  one  you  would  like  to  see  before  your  hus- 
band comes  ?" 

Again  the  eyes  opened  languidly  and  slowly,  the  lips 
moved  rapidly,  but  no  sound  could  be  heard  ;  the  hand 
made  a  sign  on  the  forehead  and  breast,  which  the 
countess  understood,  and  by  way  of  answer  she  made 
the  sign  of  the  cross,  saying,  "  My  private  chaplain  is 
here  ;  do  you  wish  that  he  should  go  for  the  priest  of 
the  parish  ?" 

Helena  clasped  her  hands  and  stammered,  "  Oh, 
quick,  quick  !     I  have  much  to  say." 


30  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

The  chaplain  came  into  the  room.  He  was  very 
young.  Shortly  after  his  ordination  he  had  become 
tutor  in  the  household  of  the  countess,  and  this  was  the 
first  time  that  he  had  been  called  on  to  perform  the 
duties  of  his  sacred  office  at  the  sick-bed.  Helena  gave 
him  a  penetrating  look,  and  seeing  the  purity  of  youth 
and  the  holiness  of  his  calling  in  his  face,  felt  that  she 
could  trust  him  with  her  last  request  to  her  husband. 

Through  a  remarkable  dispensation  of  Providence  the 
chatter  of  a  child  had  enabled  him  to  understand  a  state 
of  things  which  would  otherwise  have  required  a  long 
explanation  to  make  intelligible.  His  advice  was  in 
accordance  with  her  wishes,  and  afforded  her  the  peace 
and  rest  to  which  she  had  long  been  a  stranger,  as  she 
confided  to  him  her  desires  with  regard  to  her  child. 

Her  peace  with  God  was  soon  made.  A  simple,  child- 
like spirit,  which  had  remained  uncorrupted  by  the 
world,  had  long  prepared  her  for  this  hour.  Had  she 
had  a  presentiment  of  the  nearness  of  the  end,  or  had 
the  agitation  of  the  morning  hastened  it  ? 

At  this  moment  her  husband,  who  but  just  heard  of 
the  state  of  his  wife,  entered,  and  his  grief  was  uncon- 
trollable. Helena's  pale  face  flushed  a  little,  a  loving 
glance  brightened  her  eyes,  but  the  peace  so  lately 
gained  was  disturbed.  It  is  hard  to  die  when  loving 
arms  are  holding  us  tightly  and  earthly  happiness  asserts 
its  sway.  In  the  depth  of  his  agony  Alfred  was  entirely 
unconscious  of  strangers.  Helena  knew  that  she  had 
not  long  to  remain,  and  asked  for  her  child.  Alfred 
seemed  not  to  hear,  but  the  countess,  herself  a  mother, 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  3I 

understood,  and  motioned  Curt,  who  brought  in  the 
frightened  little  one,  still  clinging  to  him.  He  placed 
her  on  the  couch  close  to  her  mother. 

Was  it  a  wild  feeling  of  jealousy  at  seeing  a  stranger 
bring  her  babe,  or  was  it  in  order  to  attract  Alfred's 
attention  to  the  child  which  made  Helena  push  the  boy 
away  with  nervous  haste  and  place  her  husband's  hand 
on  Nora  ?  There  was  something  in  the  action  which 
wounded  the  boy's  sensibility,  and  he  stepped  back 
flushed  to  the  forehead.  With  the  quickness  of  vision, 
often  peculiar  to  the  dying,  Helena  noticed  all  this,  and 
stretching  out  her  hand  to  the  boy,  she  beckoned  him 
to  come  nearer  and  nearer,  until  he  stood  close  beside 
her.  His  was  a  beautiful  face,  and  from  his  large  brown 
eyes  tears  rolled  down  for  the  sorrows  of  these  strangers. 
Helena  looked  earnestly  at  him,  then  raising  her  feeble 
hand  and  placing  it  on  his  head,  as  if  with  a  blessing, 
her  lips  moved  and  seemed  to  form  the  -words  thank  you, 
but  a  violent  fit  of  coughing  interrupted  her,  and  the 
towel  which  they  held  to  her  lips  was  dyed  with  a  scar- 
let stream.  At  length  the  doctor  came  and  applied 
himself  to  do  all  in  his  power,  although  his  practised 
eye  saw  how  vain  science  now  was.  He  recommended 
them  to  take  the  child  away  ;  the  kind  chaplain  took 
the  husband  under  his  care,  but  the  countess  remained 
constant  in  her  task  of  loving  charity,  and  through  the 
long  night  the  still  young  life  struggled  with  the  de- 
stroyer, until  the  morning  dawned  on  the  departing 
spirit. 

Around  Helena's  couch  knelt  this  strangely  collected 


32  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

party,  representing  such  different  phases  of  society. 
The  priest,  who  had  given  the  departed  the  last  conso- 
lations of  religion,  and  who  was  now  caring  so  lovingly 
for  the  bereaved  husband  ;  the  boy,  holding  the  orphan, 
who  had  cried  herself  to  sleep  in  his  arms  ;  the  countess, 
supporting  with  sisterly  solicitude  the  head  of  the 
stranger,  the  wife  of  the  circus  director,  whose  position 
she  felt  inclined  to  question  only  a  few  hours  ago. 

A  week  had  elapsed  since  the  death  ;  for  three  days 
had  Helena's  body  rested  in  the  earth.  The  grief  of 
the  husband  had  become  more  subdued,  and  every-day 
life  was  again  asserting  its  rights.  It  is  a  mercy  that 
stern  reality  forces  itself  upon  us  unbidden  and  takes 
us  out  of  our  sorrows. 

In  every  great  grief,  as  in  every  great  event,  there 
exists  a  certain  levelling  power  which  quietly  sets  aside 
the  social  laws.  The  countess,  in  her  own  practical, 
helpful  way,  had  taken  this  family,  so  strangely  and 
intimately  brought  to  her  notice,  under  her  immediate 
protection,  and  she  kept  little  Nora  close  beside  her,  in 
order  that  the  child  might  feel  her  loss  as  little  as  pos- 
sible. At  length,  however,  it  became  imperative  that 
things  should  resume  their  natural  course.  Karsten 
wished  to  leave  a  spot  where  he  had  known  so  much 
sorrow.  He  came  for  his  little  girl  and  to  take  leave  of 
the  countess.  For  the  first  time  that  distinguished  lady 
found  herself  called  upon  to  face  the  difference  that  ex- 
ists between  the  various  stations  in  life,  and  it  was  a 
strange  experience  for  her  to  meet  as  an  equal  the 
man    who    moved    in    a   sphere   unknown    to   her.      She 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  ^$ 

belonged  to  that  aristocratic  circle  which  seeks  or  sym- 
pathizes only  with  its  equals,  and  yet  we  have  seen  that 
she  did  not  shrink  from  intercourse  when  duty  to  her 
neighbor  required  it.  Hers  was  a  nature  that  knows 
neither  weakness  nor  enthusiasm,  but  is  governed  by 
an  unyielding  sense  of  duty,  a  character  capable  of 
gaining  great  spiritual  merit,  but  not  calculated  to  win 
much  love. 

The  teachings  of  Christian  charity  made  her  stand  by 
the  strangers  in  afifiiction  and  leave  no  duty  neglected  ; 
but  that  motive  gone,  she  wished  they  would  never  cross 
her  path  again.  Too  thoroughly  well  bred  to  allow  this 
feeling  to  be  offensively  apparent,  she  limited  all  further 
intercourse  with  them  to  the  absolutely  unavoidable. 

Alfred  Karsten  had  at  one  time  been  too  nearly  allied 
to  this  rank  in  life,  and  even  yet  harbored  too  much 
secret  sympathy  with  it,  not  to  fully  understand  the 
state  of  affairs,  and  not  thoroughly  to  realize  his  own 
position,  which,  however,  he  well  knew  how  to  respect. 
The  countess  could  not  fail  to  be  impressed  by  his  quiet 
dignity  and  perfectly  cultured  manners,  while  the  nat- 
ural beauty  of  his  features  was  enhanced  by  the  earnest 
expression  of  his  grief. 

"  And  your  child,  will  she  accompany  you  ?"  asked 
the  countess,  after  Karsten  had  expressed  his  gratitude 
in  the  warmest  manner  and  spoken  of  his  departure. 

A  sad  expression  crossed  his  face,  and  brushing  his 
hand  over  his  brow,  as  if  to  recover  his  composure,  he 
said  in  a  trembling  voice,  "  No  ;  one  stroke  robs  me 
of  everything.      Your   chaplain    has    communicated   to 


34  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

me  my  wife's  last  wishes  with  regard  to  our  daughter. 
They  shall  be  sacred  to  me.  I  already  knew  her  opinion 
on  the  subject.  She  may  have  been  right  in  saying 
that  my  way  of  living  is  not  a  desirable  path  in  which 
to  bring  up  a  girl,  and  I  shall  faithfully  comply  with 
her  request.  The  priest  has  kindly  given  me  some 
addresses,  and  my  first  care  will  be  to  place  Nora  in  a 
convent  school.' ' 

"  In  a  convent  school  !"  said  the  countess,  with  aston- 
ishment. 

"  You  see  an  incongruity  in  this,  madam,"  he  replied 
in  bitter  tones.  "  I  myself  would  have  selected  a  differ- 
ent system  of  education  for  my  daughter,  but  her 
mother's  wish  shall  be  my  law.  She  was  brought  up 
in  a  convent,  and  always  retained  a  great  love  for  it. 
May  our  daughter  be  as  good  and  sweet  as  her  mother," 
he  added,  while  a  dark  cloud  again  crossed  his  l)row. 

"  You  are  making  a  great  sacrifice,"  said  the  coun- 
tess, "but  you  will  have  the  comfort  of  knowing  that 
you  place  your  daughter  in  the  very  best  of  hands." 

He  bowed  and  pursued  the  subject  no  further.  The 
chaplain  entered  just  at  that  moment,  and  presented 
letters  to  Karsten  and  directions  with  regard  to  the 
matter  in  question.  Both  men  clasped  hands  cordially, 
for  these  days  of  sorrow  had  brought  them  very  near. 

"  Nora,  our  time  is  flying,"  said  Karsten  to  the  little 
girl,  who,  standing  in  the  window,  did  not  seem  to  pay 
any  attention  ;  she  was  looking  at  Curt,  who  had  just 
said,  "  Take  this  little  book  in  remembrance  of  to- 
day." 


THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER.  35 

"  Wrile  your  name  in  it,"  she  pleaded. 

The  boy  drew  out  a  pencil  in  order  to  humor  her. 

"  Oh,  you  are  writing  more,"  she  said,  looking  over 
his  shoulder. 

He  put  his  hand  on  her  mouth  and  said  quickly, 
"  Hush,  hush  !     Read  this,  but  not  aloud." 

"  '  When  friends  part  they  say.  Until  ive  meet  again.' 
Oh,  how  pretty  !" 

"  But  you  must  not  let  any  one  see  it,"  he  urged,  un- 
willing, boy-like,  that  any  one  should  discover  how 
much  he  felt.  "  Now,  what  are  you  going  to  give  me 
at  parting  ?"  he  asked,  as  he  lifted  her  lightly  from  the 
window-seat. 

She  thought  a  minute,  and  then  holding  one  of  her 
curls,  said  to  him  naively,  "  Will  you  take  this  ?  That 
was  what  mamma  gave  papa  as  a  remembrance." 

The  boy  smiled  and  blushed.  Although  but  thirteen, 
the  association  of  idea  seemed  to  strike  him.  She 
noticed  his  hesitation,  and  quickly  detaching  the  pearl 
and  diamond  heart  from  her  neck,  said,  "  No,  take  this." 

"  Your  lovely  heart  which  you  received  from  the  Em- 
peror of  Russia  !  Oh,  no  ;  you  must  not  do  that,"  said 
he,  declining  it. 

"  But  I  can  do  it,  and  will  do  it,  and  you  must  take 
it.  I  do  not  love  any  one  in  the  world  as  well  as  you 
except  papa,"  and  she  threw  her  little  arms  around  him, 

"  You  will  not  be  a  circus-rider,  will  you  ?"  he  whis- 
pered, as  he  hung  the  ornament  on  his  watch-chain. 

"  Nora,"  again  called  her  father  ;  "  come,  my  child, 
we  must  say  good-by." 


$6  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

Nora  held  the  boy's  hand  fast  as  she  came  forwal"d 
and  looked  at  the  countess,  whose  portly  figure  and 
cold  features  did  not  excite  her  sympathy  much,  and 
into  whose  hand  she  silently  put  hers. 

"  Have  you  nothing  to  say  ?"   inquired  her  father. 

"  Au  rez'oir  /"  she  said,  as  if  the  words  were  the  echo 
of  something  in  her  heart. 

The  countess  seemed  strangely  disturbed.  Had  the 
child  pronounced  what  s/ie  least  desired  ?  But  after  a 
moment  she  took  the  little  one  on  her  lap  and  said, 
"  Well,  let  it  be  au  revoir.  I  hope  I  shall  then  find  you 
well  and  happy." 

"And  you  also,"  answered  the  child,  as  she  freed 
herself  from  the  lady's  embrace  and,  bursting  into  tears, 
ran  to  Curt.  Karsten  wished  to  say  good-by  to  Curt, 
but  his  voice  entirely  deserted  him.  Probably  the  mute, 
manly  shake  of  the  hand  which  he  gave  made  a  deeper 
impression  on  the  boy  than  words  could  have  done. 
One  more  silent  leave-taking  with  the  chaplain,  and 
father  and  daughter  were  gone. 

"  What  a  peculiar  man  !  What  strange  circum- 
stances !"  said  the  countess  to  the  priest  after  a  pause. 
"  What  queer  fate  has  placed  him  in  such  a  position  ? 
His  whole  appearance  shows  him  to  be  above  his  call- 
ing, and  yet  he  seems  to  be  perfectly  happy  in  it. 
Where  does  he  think  of  placing  his  child  ?" 

The  priest  named  one  of  the  principal  educational 
institutions  in  Belgium. 

"  Good  heavens  !  your  reverence,  what  induced  you 
to  give  him  the  address  of  that  place,  where  only  the 


THE    CIRCUS  RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  37 

daughters  of  our  first  families  are  educated  ?     It   will 
be  most  mortifying  to  the  poor  child." 

"  Karsten  was  most  particular  on  the  point.  He 
wished  only  the  best  and  most  desirable  for  his  daugh- 
ter.    He  must  be  rich." 

"  That  is  of  no  consequence,"  replied  the  countess 
impatiently.  "  What  can  be  expected  from  such  a  low 
life  ?  The  convent  school  is  not  for  those  who  have 
wandered  all  over  creation.  Intuition  and  the  tastes 
bred  by  early  training  will  bring  her  back  to  the  habits 
of  childhood.  A  thousand  times  better  that  she  had 
never  left  the  path  she  had  entered." 

"  The  mother's  principal  care  was  for  the  soul  of  her 
child,  and  on  this  account  she  dreaded  the  influences 
that  surround  a  circus-rider.  She  hoped  that  a  good 
education  and  piety  would  prove  a  shield  in  later  years 
to  her  daughter,  and,  therefore,  wished  her  to  be  in- 
structed in  all  that  could  prove  conducive  to  this  end." 

"  Illusions,  illusions,  my  friend.  They  are  only  pre- 
paring unhappiness  for  her.  She  will  find  no  place 
where  she  can  take  root." 

"  We   must   trust   something   to   God's   providence," 
said  the  priest  quietly.      "  Goer s  flowers  bloom  in  any  soil ;  " 
and  the  mother's  pious  care  could  find  no  other  way  by 
which  to  assure  her  child's  safety." 

These  words  sank  deep  into  the  heart  of  Curt,  who 
continued  standing,  sadly  mourning  for  his  little  play- 
fellow, and  on  whom  the  hard  words  of  his  mother  fell 
heavily,  though  he  could  not  tell  himself  why.  Since 
the  evening  when  he  held  the  child   in  his  arms  and  re- 


38  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

ceived  the  dying  mother's  blessing,  Nora's  lot  seemed 
to  interest  him,  and  he  felt  that  in  some  way  he  would 
be  responsible  for  it.  He  was  old  enough  to  realize  the 
dangers  of  her  position,  and  he  grieved  when  he  thought 
on  the  possibilities  of  her  future.  He  wished  to  save 
and  shelter  her,  and  all  kinds  of  plans  ran  through  his 
brain.  He  thought  of  asking  his  mother  to  adopt  her 
and  bring  her  up  with  her  own  children,  but  he  was 
afraid  to  mention  the  idea,  for  he  knew  that  she  would 
laugh  at  it.  "  God' s  flowers  bloom  in  any  soil"  was  his 
consolation,  for  to  him  Nora  was  like  a  tender  flower. 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  39 


CHAPTER  III. 

'T^EN  years  had  passed.  In  the  court  of  one  of  the 
-^  numerous  schools  in  Brussels  a  number  of  half- 
grown  girls  were  gathered  round  an  old  well.  It  was 
a  custom  in  the  school  for  the  pupils  during  the  mid-day 
recreation  to  draw  water,  and  it  was  always  a  great 
source  of  frolic  and  a  chance  for  practical  jokes. 

It  would  seem  as  if  the  babbling  waters  must  have 
some  mysterious  charm  to  unloose  woman's  tongue,  for 
from  time  immemorial  wells  have  been  favorite  places 
of  rendezvous  for  gossip.  Around  the  convent  foun- 
tain there  was  now  a  whispering  and  a  buzzing  that 
would  have  done  credit  to  the  Tower  of  Babel. 

"  See  here,  see  here,"  cried  a  loud  voice  ;  "  see  what 
I  can  do  !"  and  the  speaker,  with  a  dexterous  hand, 
seized  a  bucket  full  of  water,  and  lightly  swinging  it  to 
her  head  walked  away. 

"  Rebecca  at  the  well  !  Rebecca  at  the  well  !"  was 
heard  on  all  sides.  "  Nora,  you  look  like  a  picture  cut 
out  of  the  Bible." 

The  comparison  was  not  bad.  The  tall,  slight  figure, 
clad  in  a  simple  dress,  the  white  handkerchief  folded 
like  a  turban  under  the  pitcher,  the  somewhat  sharp, 
but  marked  features,  the  black  tresses  hanging  on  either 
side  of  the  graceful  neck — all  made  a  picture  which 
might  well  remind  one  of  the  chosen  of  the  patriarch, 


40  1  HE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

as  the  young  girl  stepped  lightly  up  the  steps  of  the 
well.  "  Not  a  drop  has  fallen  ;  who  can  do  that  ?"  Of 
course  the  attempt  was  made  by  many,  and  more  than 
one  dripping  head  tried  to  escape  the  notice  of  the  Sister 
in  charge,  who  had  just  stepped  in  another  direction. 
Her  absence  seemed  to  encourage  some  of  the  boldest 
to  repeat  the  trial  and  to  plan  some  mischievous  tricks. 

"  Lily  !"  cried  they  to  a  younger  girl  who  was  seen 
to  approach,  and  whose  timid  step  bespoke  her  a  new 
arrival  ;  "  Lily,  to-day  the  water  is  to  be  carried  on  the 
head.     You  must  try  to  do  it." 

"  I  cannot,  I  cannot,"  protested  the  child,  but  they 
formed  a  circle  around  her  and  raised  the  vessel  to  her 
head  without  more  ado.  A  movement  made  it  fall  to 
the  ground,  and  the  crying,  drenched  little  one  stood 
motionless  in  the  midst  of  the  wild,  laughing  group. 

"  A  sailor  baptism  !  Let  us  have  a  sailor  baptism  !" 
screamed  one  saucy  girl.  The  proposition  found  uni- 
versal favor,  and  among  fresh  shouts  of  joy  a  second 
shower  covered  the  newly  initiated  ;  the  next  minute, 
however,  she  who  had  inaugurated  the  play  strode  forth 
and,  standing  before  Lily,  cried,  "  Shame  on  you  all, 
you  big  girls,  to  frighten  the  child  !  Another  drop,  and 
I'll  teach  you  to  be  sorry  for  it." 

"  Oh,  Nora  always  wants  things  her  way  !"  shouted 
one  defiantly.  "  But  do  not  mind  her.  Forward, 
march  !  Lily  is  wet  now,  and  she  must  be  further  bap- 
tized." 

Nora,  who  was  quicker  than  the  attacking  party, 
threw  a  well-aimed  stream  of  water  at  them,   so  that, 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  4I 

screaming  and  laughing,  they  had  to  withdraw,  but 
only  to  gather  their  forces,  and  for  some  minutes,  if  not 
a  bloody  at  least  a  watery  fight  was  waged. 

"Is  this  becoming  conduct  for  young  ladies?"  was 
suddenly  heard  from  the  Sister  in  charge,  whose  return 
in  the  heat  of  the  battle  had  not  been  noticed.  "  Who 
began  this  rude  sport?"  she  continued.  "Lily,  you 
look  terribly.  I  shall  report  the  entire  affair  to  Mother 
Superior." 

With  these  words  she  looked  inquiringly  into  the  cir- 
cle, where  silence  now  reigned.  The  majority  sought, 
with  guilty  countenances,  to  get  into  the  background. 
Nora  alone  stood  unmoved  in  her  place  with  the  pitcher 
in  her  hand. 

"  Ah,  so  it  is  you.  Miss  Nora  !"  said  the  Sister  sharply. 
"  I  should  have  hoped  that  your  long  residence  in  this 
institution  would  have  taught  you  better  than  to  be 
guilty  of  such  rudeness  ;  but  you  seem  to  be  incorrigi- 
ble. I  saw  that  you  lifted  the  pitcher  and  were  the 
promoter  of  all  this  trouble.  I  shall  not  fail  to  report 
it  to  Mother  Superior,  whose  indulgence  seems  to  make 
you  all  the  more  haughty.  You  will  remain  in  your 
room  during  the  remainder  of  the  recreation,  in  order 
that  you  may  have  time  to  reflect.  You,  Lily,  go  take 
off  your  wet  clothes.  The  young  ladies  will,  it  is  hoped, 
remember  that  such  an  affair  must  not  happen  again." 

It  is  a  peculiarity  of  small  minds  to  throw  the  respon- 
sibility of  guilt  on  one  person.  Nora's  rather  indepen- 
dent spirit  and  the  too  apparent  favor  of  the  Mother 
Superior  for  her  had  long  been  a  thorn  in  the  flesh  of 


42  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

this  Sister,  who  now  directed  her  sharp,  bitter  words 
to  her  alone.  The  evil  of  party  spirit  is  to  be  found 
more  or  less  in  every  state. 

Nora  received  the  order  with  perfect  equanimity. 
Not  a  word  of  explanation  passed  her  lips.  She  merely 
cast  a  look  of  contempt  over  the  dumb  group,  not  one 
of  whom  came  to  her  defence,  tossed  her  haughty  head 
in  the  air,  refilled  her  pitcher,  and  walked  into  the  house. 

The  others  followed  her,  some  of  the  more  honest 
whispering,  "  We  should  not  have  allowed  the  whole 
blame  to  fall  on  Nora.  She  was  the  least  guilty,  and 
she  is  always  so  good  to  everybody.  Why  didn't  Lily 
speak  ?" 

"  She  speak  !"   continued  another  contemptuously. 

"  Oh,  bah  !  What  does  it  matter  ?"  said  the  one  who 
had  been  the  leader  of  the  assault.  "  Madame  will  not 
punish  her  ;  she  always  protects  her  on  account  of  the 
secrecy  of  her  descent.  None  of  us  know  whence  she 
came,  and  her  remarkable  talent  for  acting  creates  sus- 
picion." 

"  It  is  very  strange  that  we  are  obliged  to  associate 
with  girls  of  whose  parents  nothing  is  known,"  said  a 
tall,  haggard,  vinegar-visaged  girl. 

"  It  is  worse  when  they  are  known,"  replied  another, 
who  by  her  quick  repartee  carried  a  sting,  for  it  was 
no  secret  that  the  one  who  was  so  tenacious  of  descent 
did  not  bear  one  of  the  most  distinguished  names. 

"  For  my  part,"  said  the  last  speaker,  "  I  do  not  care 
whether  we  know  anything  of  Nora's  family  or  not. 
We  do  know  that  she  is  the  best  and  cleverest  of  us  all, 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  43 

and  her  silence  under  unjust  punishment  proves  it.  To 
me  she  is  the  best  and  truest  friend,  be  her  descent 
higher  or  lower  than  mine." 

The  speaker  was  the  daughter  of  a  German  prince, 
and  her  conduct  was  another  proof  that  those  who  are 
sure  of  their  position  are  often  the  most  liberal. 

All  the  rest  of  the  day  Nora  had  ample  time  for  re- 
flection. While  her  companions  enjoyed  recreation, 
she  sat  alone  in  her  room  and  gazed  at  the  mountains, 
whose  tops  appeared  on  the  horizon. 

The  face  which  had  been  so  gleesome  in  the  morning 
was  now  deeply  earnest,  and  the  mouth  quivered  like 
that  of  a  sobbing  child.  The  solitude  to  which  she  was 
condemned  did  not  distress  her.  She  loved  it,  as  do 
all  earnest  natures  who  commune  with  self.  Perhaps 
the  shadows  of  the  distant  mountains  had  an  influence 
upon  her,  perhaps  the  blood  which  mounted  to  cheek 
and  forehead  was  too  feverish  for  the  confinement  of 
walls  and  longed  to  fly  far  beyond  their  limits. 

A  trembling  hand  touched  her  shoulder,  a  blonde 
head  caressed  her,  and  a  timid  voice  said,  "  Are  you 
lonely,  Nora  ?  It  was  mean  of  me  to  allow  you  to  be 
punished  for  protecting  me." 

"Oh,  is  that  you,  Lily.'  Do  not  trouble  yourself. 
The  punishment  is  nothing  ;  but  why  were  you  so  silent, 
little  chicken-heart  ?" 

"  I  never  can  speak  ;  I  am  always  so  afraid  ;  but  I 
am  so  sorry  on  your  account.  You  have  always  been 
so  good  and  kind  to  me,"  said  the  little  girl,  as  she 
threw  her  arms  around  Nora's  neck. 


44  THE     CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

The  latter  kissed  her,  saying,  "  Another  time  you  will 
know  how  to  speak."  Then  looking  at  Lily  sharply, 
she  added,  "  But  you  have  been  crying  again.  Shame  ! 
Who  else  could  be  so  woeful  for  three  months  ?" 

"  I  cannot  help  it.  I  am  here  against  my  will,  and 
I  am  homesick.  You  look  sad  also,  Nora.  You  are 
homesick,  too,  but  you  are  too  proud  to  acknowledge 
it." 

"  Homesick  !"  said  Nora.  "  No,  on  the  contrary, 
I  believe  I  am  far-away-sick.  I  have  been  here  ten 
years,  and  it  has  become  a  home  to  me,  and  yet  I  want 
to  go  away.  The  ground  burns  beneath  my  feet.  Oh, 
that  I  could  once  again  see  other  people,  other  places  ; 
once  more  see  a  horse,  and  jump  in  the  air  !"  She 
stretched  out  her  arms  longingly. 

"  Well,  why  don't  you  go  home  ?  You  are  quite 
grown  up,"  said  Lily,  with  all  the  respect  which  fifteen 
feels  for  seventeen. 

Nora  blushed  as  she  answered  hesitatingly,  "  I  have 
no  home.  My  mother  died  when  I  was  young,  and  my 
father  is  travelling." 

"Where  is  your  father?"  inquired  Lily  inquisi- 
tively. 

Nora  blushed  still  more  deeply,  and  did  not  answer. 
Ever  since  those  days  long  ago  in  Switzerland  she  had 
a  peculiar  feeling  with  regard  to  her  father's  position, 
which  the  reserve  of  the  nuns  had  strengthened.  She 
now  turned  a  deaf  ear  to  the  question,  and  the  entrance 
of  one  of  the  other  pupils  gave  her  an  excuse  for  chang- 
ing the  subject. 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  45 

"  Come  in,  Elizabeth  ;  come  in,"  she  said.  "  We 
both  are  rather  blue  here  ;  Lily  is  homesick." 

"  And  Nora  \s  far-away-sick,'''  added  the  latter. 

''Far-away-sick!'''  repeated  the  newcomer,  who  was 
no  other  than  Nora's  champion  of  a  few  minutes  before. 
"  Far-away-sick  !  I  don't  know  what  that  means.  I  so 
love  the  quiet  within  these  walls,  where  one  has  but  one 
object  in  view,  that  I  dread  to  leave  them." 

"  I  understand  your  meaning,"  said  Nora,  turning  to 
the  last  speaker,  "  but  I  am  not  like  you.  My  thoughts 
wander  over  the  whole  earth,  while  yours  only  tend 
upward." 

Happily  said,  as  usual,  Nora,"  replied  Elizabeth 
smilingly  ;  "  but  who  knows  what  the  future  may  bring 
forth,  let  our  wishes  be  what  they  may." 

"  The  future  !"  gasped  Nora.  "  Oh,  how  I  should 
like  to  know  what  it  has  in  store  !  It  is  such  an  enigma 
to  me,  that  I  can  form  no  idea  how  my  life  may  be 
passed." 

"  I  know  my  future  perfectly,"  said  Lily  contentedly. 

"  You,  little  one  !"  exclaimed  both  the  elder  girls 
together. 

"Yes;  why  not?  My  aunt  settled  it  all.  I  am  to 
remain  one  year  here  ;  then  I  shall  return  home  and 
marry  my  cousin." 

The  two  girls  laughed  aloud  and  said,  "  You  marry 
your  cousin  !     Are  you  quite  sure  ?  Do  you  know  him  ?" 

"  There  is  nothing  to  laugh  at,"  continued  the  child, 
pouting.  "  It  was  papa's  dying  wish,  and  my  aunt  and 
every  one  approves  of  it." 


46  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

"  Who  is  the  happy  cousin  ?"  persisted  the  teasing 
Nora  just  as  the  bell  was  heard. 

"  That  is  your  call  to  the  Superior,"  said  Elizabeth. 
"  Sister  Barbara  seemed  inexorable  when  we  made  ex- 
cuses for  3'ou." 

Lily  stole  up  to  Nora  and  said,  "  Shall  I  accompany 
you  and  tell  how  it  happened  ?" 

No,  sweetheart  ;  I  shall  not  trouble  you.  I  fight 
my  own  battles."  A  look  of  fearless  energy  shone  in 
her  eyes  as  she  added  gayly,  "  I  long  to  struggle  with 
life  and  conquer.  Better  a  whirlwind  than  everlasting 
quiet  ;  and  now  for  the  little  storm  which  Sister  has 
raised." 

"Be  careful;  it  may  be  worse  than  you  think," 
warned  Elizabeth,  with  all  the  importance  which  school- 
life  attaches  to  such  things,  where  the  blue  ribbon  of 
good  conduct  is  as  much  coveted  as  the  honors  in  the 
gift  of  a  prince. 

Nora  went  forward  laughingly  and  "sprang  upstairs 
two  steps  at  a  time,  but  at  the  Superior's  door  she  hesi- 
tated like  a  raw  recruit  who  dreads  to  aggravate  the 
danger  by  boldness.  She  had  not,  however,  to  encoun- 
ter the  eye  of  the  Superior  ready  to  pronounce  judg- 
ment, for  the  latter  was  lost  in  thought,  sitting  at  her 
table  with  an  open  letter  before  her,  from  which  she 
looked  to  the  young  girl  with  a  troubled  expression. 

Madame  Sybille  was  a  small,  delicate  woman,  but 
her  eyes  shone  with  the  energy  which  is  so  necessary  in 
the  directress  of  a  large  institution,  such  as  that  of 
which   we  write.     As  Nora  approached  her  she  arose. 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  47 

and  with  both  hands  drew  the  girl  gently  toward  her, 
saying,  "  My  child,  there  is  always  a  turning-point  in 
life,  on  which  our  future  greatly  depends." 

Nora  had  expected  to  be  addressed  so  differently, 
that  those  earnest  words  impressed  her  so  deeply,  she 
could  only  say,  in  the  most  anxious  accent,  "  Oh, 
father  !     Oh,  father  !" 

"  Compose  yourself,"  said  the  nun  hastily.  "  He  is 
well  and  very  happy,  dear,  as  he  writes  in  this  letter, 
in  which  he  charges  me  to  prepare  you  for  an  event 
which  is  shortly  to  take  place." 

Nora  looked  bewildered,  then  a  gleam  of  hope  over- 
spread her  countenance  as  she  asked,  "  Is  he  going  to 
abandon  the  business  ?" 

The  nun  shook  her  head,  and  it  seemed  hard  for  her 
to  speak.  "  My  child,"  she  continued  at  length,  "  it  is 
a  long  time  since  God  took  his  wife,  your  mother,  to 
Himself.  Providence  gave  you  a  home  with  us.  Would 
to  God  that  it  were  in  our  power  to  give  you  all  a 
mother's  love  !" 

Nora  pressed  her  lips  to  the  hand  of  Madame  Sybille, 
who  had  been  the  first  to  console  her  orphan  sorrow, 
and  on  whose  breast  she  had  cried  bitter  tears  on 
being  separated  from  her  father.  A  tender  tie  bound 
her  to  the  woman  who  had  filled  the  place  of  her  dead 
mother  as  fully  as  the  rules  of  the  cloister  would  al- 
low. 

"  Your  father  has  been  very  lonesome,  doubly  lone- 
some on  account  of  the  sacrifice  whicii  he  made  for 
your  education.     He  is  now  anxious  to  create  a   new 


4o  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

domestic  circle  and  to  give  you  a  home.  He  is  going 
to  be  married,  my  child." 

Nora's  eyes  opened  wider  and  wider  ;  she  seemed  un- 
able to  comprehend  the  words,  and  she  merely  stared 
vacantly. 

"  He  is  going  to  be  married,"  repeated  the  nun,  as 
she  resumed  her  seat.  "  He  sends  the  announcement 
of  his  betrothal  to  a  Miss  Emily  Lauer." 

It  was  scarcely  possible  to  judge  whether  Nora  had 
understood  the  simple  words  or  not,  her  eyes  looked  so 
vacant,  but  she  threw  her  hands  over  her  head  and 
uttered  a  piercing  cry  of  sorrow. 

"Sit  down,  darling,"  said  the  nun,  handing  her  a 
chair  and  embracing  her  fondly.  Nora's  head  fell 
heavily  on  her  shoulder  ;  her  forebodings  seemed  about 
to  be  realized.  She  and  her  father  were  most  tenderly 
united,  although  they  had  seen  so  little  of  each  other. 
Several  times  in  the  year  he  visited  her,  and  the  whole 
school  was  generally  thrown  into  a  state  of  excitement 
over  the  splendid-looking  man  who  showered  gifts  on 
his  daughter  which  made  her  very  proud  of  him.  He 
also  wrote,  and  in  his  correspondence  with  her,  as  had 
formerly  been  the  case  with  her  mother,  his  finest  feel- 
ings found  expression.  His  early  training,  too,  was  so- 
perceptible  throughout  his  writing,  that  Nora,  as  she 
grew  older,  was  not  slow  to  recognize  that  it  was  only 
misfortune  which  caused  him  to  adopt  his  profession, 
and  to  conclude  that  it  must  be  a  source  of  unhappiness 
to  him. 

To  be  a  comfort  to  him,  to  replace  by  her  love  all  that 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  49 

she  suspected  he  had  lost,  and  to  do  all  in  her  power  to 
reconcile  him  to  his  lot,  had  long  been  her  childhood's 
dream.  She  had  determined  to  be  all  to  him,  to  be  the 
nearest  and  dearest,  and  now  she  had  calmly  to  see 
that  coveted  place  filled  and  her  mother's  memory,  per- 
haps, effaced. 

To  youth  the  inconstancy  of  love  seems  an  unnatural 
thing,  from  which  it  shrinks.  Nora's  father,  from 
being  her  idol,  sank  deeply  in  her  estimation,  for  the 
young  always  rush  into  extremes  when  their  feelings 
are  wounded.  Alas  !  later  years  teach  them  how  much 
those  feelings  can  bear. 

Madame  Sybille  saw  the  bitter  expression  on  Nora's 
mouth  and  the  violence  with  which  she  pushed  away 
her  father's  letter,  and  said  to  her,  as  she  stroked  her 
dark  hair,  "  My  child,  do  not  condemn  that  which  you 
cannot  understand.  You  little  know  the  loneliness  of 
advancing  years." 

"  But  he  had  me  !"  cried  the  girl  violently.  "  I 
would  so  willingly  have  hastened  to  him.  Oh,  it  is  un- 
pardonable in  him  !" 

"  And  would  you  have  always  remained  with  him  ? 
Children  often  go  away." 

A  deep  blush  rose  to  Nora's  forehead,  and  that  inde- 
scribable something  which  such  a  question  awakes  in 
every  girl  went  through  her  heart.  She  remembered 
how  lately  she  had  tried  to  penetrate  the  future,  and 
her  eyes  sank  in  confusion. 

No  one  has  the  right  to  measure   the  happiness  of 
others    by    his   own   standard  ;    that   is    mere    egotism. 


5©  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

Look  on  this  matter  as  the  decree  of  Providence.  Your 
father  wishes  to  provide  a  home  for  you,  to  w^hich  he 
can  bring  you  soon  after  his  marriage.  You  will  then 
leave  us,  dear  child,  which  I,  for  one,  shall  regret  very 
much." 

But  Nora  paid  no  attention  to  the  kind  words  ;  her 
thoughts  were  too  much  preoccupied. 

"  Is  the  lady — the  lady,"  she  hesitated,  and  in  a 
trembling  voice  continued — "  one  of  the  company  ?" 

"  It  is  not  probable,"  said  Madame  Sybille  in  a  con- 
ciliatory voice,  "  that  he  would  seek  a  companion  in 
any  other  sphere.  He  has  not  said  so  directly,  but  his 
silence  leaves  this  to  be  inferred.  He  says  that  her 
goodness  and  amiability  will  be  sure  to  make  you 
happy." 

"  Oh  !"  cried  Nora  in  despair,  and  throwing  herself 
into  the  Superior's  arms.  "  Worse  and  worse  !  Do 
not  let  me  go  to  her  !  Keep  me  here  !  keep  me  here  !" 
and  she  burst  into  a  torrent  of  tears. 

The  nun  embraced  the  weeping,  trembling  child  as 
if  she  longed  to  keep  her  safe.  Had  the  words  been 
spoken  from  her  soul  ?  Were  they  the  echoes  of  her 
heart's  desire  ?  Madame  was  a  true  religious,  long- 
serving  in  her  vocation.  Hundreds  of  children  had  she 
welcomed,  and  as  many  had  she  seen  bid  her  a  tearful 
farewell.  What  deep,  conscientious  interest  she  had 
taken  in  their  welfare,  forgetful  of  self  !  But  there  are 
natures  which  possess  a  magic  influence,  as  there  are 
lands  which  seem  a  paradise.  With  rare  intelligence 
this  good   nun  had   always  tried   to  smooth  away  prej- 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  51 

udices  born  of  difference  of  position  in  life,  and  in  this 
case  Nora's  heartfelt  love  rewarded  her.  She  had 
formed  a  deep  friendship  for  the  child  whose  future 
had  occupied  so  much  of  her  thought.  Nora  was  not 
one  to  pass  through  life  unnoticed,  and  to  take  a  hum- 
ble place.  What  a  life,  what  an  influence  awaited  her  ! 
She  would  be  thrown  into  the  most  trying  position  with- 
out protection,  without  guardianship.  Was  it,  then,  to 
be  wondered  at  that  Madame  Sybille  wished  her  favor- 
ite in  God's  house  ?  to  plant  this  tender  flower  in  the 
shade  of  these  walls,  where  she  could  be  protected  from 
every  storm  ? 

Never,  save  in  prayer,  had  a  word  of  all  this  passed 
her  lips  ;  but  now  the  appeal  of  the  child  encouraged 
her  to  say,  "  Stay,  my  dear  child.  Can  you  decide  to 
remain  with  us,  and  to  walk  in  the  quiet  path  for  God 
and  in  God  ?  He  gives  the  fullest  peace,  and  is  the 
safest  haven  in  the  tempest.  I  would  hail  the  hour  of 
your  entrance." 

She  spoke  affectionately  and  impressively.  Nora's 
head  lay  against  her  shoulder,  so  that  her  countenance 
was  not  visible,  but  raising  up  her  face  the  girl  said 
softly  and  decidedly,  "  No,  no,  I  cannot.  It  was  only 
pride  that  inspired  the  thought.  Peace  and  quiet  I  do 
not  choose  ;  in  the  haven  I  cannot  remain.  Rather 
would  I  face  the  storm  and  conquer  the  danger.  I 
have  been  happy  here,  but  do  not  ask  me  to  stay.  Let 
me  away,  away  !     I  cannot  be  Mary  at  the  Lord's  feet." 

A  look  of  disappointment  passed  over  the  face  of  the 
nun,  and   then  she  smiled  at  the  wild   language  of  the 


( 

52  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

girl  and  said,  "  Then  go,  my  child,  go.  Every  one 
must  choose  his  own  path.  May  the  battle  not  be  too 
fierce  for  you.  Struggles  and  dangers  are  not  always 
bad  for  us.  I  shall  miss  you — your  old  friend  will  miss 
you.  It  is  only  one  more  sacrifice  which  the  Master 
asks  ;  we  shall  be  united  in  spirit." 

"  Oh,  how  will  it  all  end  ?  It  is  so  dreadful  !"  said 
Nora,  shuddering. 

"  'Seek  not  to  know  the  future,'  writes  Thomas  a 
Kempis  ;  accommodate  yourself  to  it.  Remember  one 
thing,  wherever  your  life  may  be  cast,  the  child  is  not 
above  the  father  ;  this  is  the  law  of  both  God  and  man. 
Accept  it  with  humility  from  the  beginning.  Our  part- 
ing is  not  far  distant.  In  three  months  your  father  will 
come  for  you.  Now  go,  the  Angelus  is  ringing.  In 
prayer  you  can  best  recollect  yourself.  I  give  you  per- 
mission to  have  your  supper  brought  to  your  room  ; 
one  is  best  alone  when  meeting  trials.  Go  now,  dear- 
est, answer  your  father's  letter  affectionately,  for  he 
has  always  been  a  loving  father  to  you." 

Nora  left  the  room.  She  read  her  father's  letter,  and 
dwelt  on  the  love  which,  as  usual,  it  expressed  for  her. 
She  tried  to  think  unselfishly  on  her  fate,  and  to  picture 
the  impending  change  in  the  most  glowing  colors. 
After  going  to  bed  she  lay  awake  a  long  time,  and  as 
her  eye  rested  on  each  familiar  object,  which  years  of 
association  had  endeared  to  her,  she  felt  as  if  about  to 
lose  everything.  From  the  black  cross  on  the  wall  to 
the  white  curtains  around  her  bed,  all  was  simple,  pure 
and   tasteful,    as   is   fitting   to   a  young  girl   before  she 


THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER.  53 

enters  on  the  glare  and  restlessness  of  the  world.  Quiet 
and  simplicity  pervaded  everything,  like  the  fresh  per- 
fume of  the  wild  flower,  and  stood  out  in  startling  con- 
trast to  the  uncertainty  and  publicity  which  awaited 
her.  Once  more  the  haven  she  had  sighed  to  leave 
seemed  to  invite  her,  and  the  pang  of  separation  so 
tightened  around  her  heart  that  she  sobbed  aloud. 

A  light  step  approached  and  an  arm  was  thrown 
around  her  neck.  It  was  Lily,  who  shared  her  room, 
and  who  now  asked  simply,  "  Was  it  so  very  bad  ?" 

"What?"  said  Nora,  who  had  quite  forgotten  the 
occurrences  of  the  day.  "  Oh,  no,"  she  quickly  added, 
recollecting  herself;  "it  was  nothing.  I  am  going 
away,  Lily  ;  going  away  from  here  to  father." 

"  Then  your  far-away-sickness  is  cured  ?"  replied  her 
little  friend.      "  But  why  do  you  cry  ?" 

"  Oh,  Lily,  pray  that  it  may  not  turn  out  Jiomesick- 
ness  ;  perhaps  I  was  impatient." 

"  How  can  it  be  homesickness  in  the  midst  of  home  ?" 
persisted  her  questioner. 


54  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

IT  was  April.  Gray  clouds  chased  one  another  in  the 
sky  ;  miniature  snowflakes  flew  in  the  wind,  but 
where  the  clouds  separated  the  blue  heaven  smiled  out, 
and  the  sun  shot  down  bright  rays  which  thawed  the 
snowflakes  and  hung  them  like  glistening  jewels  on  the 
tender  brown  and  green  buds.  The  earth  seemed  warm 
with  spring's  sweet  breath.  Oh,  the  joyous,  laughing 
month  of  April  !  It  beguiles  man  from  the  cold  winter 
and  the  plants  and  flowers  from  their  protecting  clay, 
only  to  mock  them  with  a  whistling  wind  and  shower. 
Yet  who  can  resist  the  tricksy  sprite,  notwithstanding 
all  her  fickleness  ? 

On  that  April  day  a  looker-on  in  the  great  Rhenish 
university  town  might  have  seen  a  great  crowd,  which 
walked  up  and  down  beneath  the  leafless  trees  as  though 
it  thirsted  to  drink  in  the  first  spring  air  and  bask  in 
the  rays  of  King  Sol,  who  seemed  to  have  reasserted 
his  sway  ;  and  yet  small  pools  of  water  in  the  streets 
stood  tell-tale  witnesses  of  the  storm  only  just  past,  and 
certain  dark  streaks  in  the  sky  gave  unmistakable  warn- 
ing of  what  might  be  expected. 

Among  the  promenaders  the  bright-colored,  saucy 
cap  of  the  student  was  prominent,  the  independent 
step  of  its  wearer  telling  that  it  felt  at  home  here. 
There  must  be  some  strange  affinity  between  the  Ger- 


I 

THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER.  55 

man  April  and  German  student  life.  As  April  is  the 
stepping-stone  from  the  storms  and  fury  of  March  to 
the  warmth  and  promise  of  May,  so  the  student  period 
is  the  unfolding  of  the  character,  the  gradual  approach 
from  boyhood's  wild  dreams  to  man's  thoughtful  ear- 
nestness. A  secret,  indescribable  change  is  going  on 
in  these  middle  periods  of  nature  and  of  man. 

April  showers  cover  the  earth  with  golden  vines,  juicy 
fruits,  and  shady  trees  ;  student  life  fills  the  world  with  n 
earnest  workers  and  good  men. 

The  young  people  on  the  promenade  showed  the  well- 
known  brotherhood  which  exists  between  collegians, 
gathering  in  groups  and  seemingly  absorbed  in  matters 
of  self-importance  ;  matters  of  trifling  interest  to  the 
uninitiated,  but  of  grave  import  to  those  within  the 
mystic  circle. 

One  of  these  groups  was  separating  with  bows  and 
hand-shakings,  and  the  words  "  Hotel  X.,  four  o'clock  ; 
Bole"  betrayed  their  plans  for  the  close  of  the  day. 
Two  members  of  this  party,  who  in  figure  and  personal 
appearance  presented  a  marked  difference,  turned  into 
an  adjacent  street.  The  extreme  corpulence,  the  youth- 
ful, round  face,  blonde  locks,  and  florid  complexion  of 
the  one  would  have  given  merely  the  impression  of  Ger- 
man ease  and  comfort,  did  not  a  closer  view  of  the  clear 
gray  eye  and  the  compressed  mouth  tell  of  a  judgment 
rarely  mistaken  and  a  purpose  rarely  foiled. 

His  companion  seemed  thin  by  comparison,  but  he 
was  sufficiently  developed  for  the  ensuring  of  strength 
and  endurance.     His  expression  was  as  changing  as  his 


56  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

friend's  was  steadfast,  and  although  his  eyes  were  re- 
treating, they  were  his  best  feature.  They  had  the 
depth  and  brilliancy  usually  accompanying  brown  eyes, 
and  while  perhaps  lacking  determination,  were  full  of 
sentiment  and  thought.  The  broad  forehead  was  indic- 
ative of  fair  talent,  and  its  white,  smooth  surface 
seemed  the  home  of  honesty  and  purity.  The  lower 
part  of  the  face  was  the  weak  point,  the  thin  mustache 
shading  a  mouth  which  indicated  amiability  more 
than  strength.  His  words,  too,  carried  this  idea  as  he 
said,  twirling  his  cane  in  the  air,  "  I  believe  that  this  is 
the  only  spot  where  one  really  lives.  Here  one  goes 
and  comes  and  enjoys  himself  better  than  anywhere 
else.  Nature  allures,  men  allure,  life  allures,  so  that 
one  feels  with  each  breath  the  glorious  joy  of  free- 
dom." 

"  You  Southerners  are  always  boys  in  your  universi- 
ties," said  his  companion,  with  that  quiet  contempt 
which  the  practical  North  German  loves  to  show  for 
those  who  do  not  agree  with  him.  "  Everything  here 
is  secondary  to  the  golden  freedom — vulgo,  beer  or 
golden  vine  juice.  You  must  be  prepared  for  to-night. 
At  the  last  bout  a  certain  fox  got  caught  early  in  the 
evening." 

"  The  beginning  is  always  hard,  but  perseverance 
conquers,"  replied  the  other,  laughing.  "  But,  frankly, 
those  bouts  are  little  to  my  taste  ;  one  can  hardly  be 
temperate." 

"  Better  to  go,  however,  than  never  to  have  been  fud- 
dled in  this  vale  of  tears.     The  head  to  which  wine  has 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  57 

never  mounted  has  nothing  in  it.  Where  do  you  pro- 
pose to  rest  from  over-study  this  Easter  vacation  ?" 

"  I  have  not  yet  decided.  Come,  listen,  Dahnovv  ; 
accompany  me  home,  and  see  the  spot  where  your 
parents  so  often  were  and  where  our  fathers  became 
friends." 

"  Thank  you  heartily  for  the  invitation,  but  I  would 
prefer  going  in  autumn,  during  the  hunting  season. 
Will  your  mother  welcome  you  home  then  again?" 
asked  Dahnow  slily. 

"  She  has  always  a  welcome  for  me  whenever  I 
come." 

"Well,  proposition  for  proposition,  Degenthal.  Let 
us  make  a  tour  through  the  valley  of  the  Neckar.  I 
have  been  discussing  it  with  some  friends." 

"  That  would  not  be  so  bad  ;  I  shall  write  home  on 
the  subject.' ' 

"  Oh,  pshaw  !"  exclaimed  Dahnow  impatiently.  "De- 
cide for  yourself  ;  you  are  not  tied  to  your  mother's 
apron-strings." 

A  look  of  vexation  passed  over  the  countenance  of 
Degenthal,  and  he  drew  himself  up  as  he  said,  "  You 
may  have  your  own  opinions  on  these  subjects,  but  I 
cannot  endure  the  coarse  carelessness  with  which  it  is 
the  fashion  here  to  refer  to  home  ;  there  is  something 
boorish  in  it  which  grates  on  me." 

"  It  is  equally  disagreeable  to  me,  although  I  am  not 
so  happy  as  to  have  a  home,"  replied  the  stout  com- 
panion. "  Nevertheless,  a  man  is  a  man,  and  a  child  is 
a  child.      Exaggeration  oversteps  itself  in  the  long  run, 


58  THE    circus-rider's   DAUGHTER. 

and  if  you  stop  now  to  ask  about  trifles,  after  awhile 
you  will  not  follow  advice  in  important  matters,  for  no 
one  is  always  submissive." 

There  was  a  certain  force  in  this  argument  which  the 
other  was  unable  to  refute.  Submission  to  the  will  of 
another  had  become  half  habit  and  half  duty  with  him. 
After  a  few  minutes  he  added  in  an  apologetic  tone, 
"  My  mother  has  almost  exclusively  guided  my  educa- 
tion, and  I  do  not  wish  to  oppose  her.'* 

"  Now,  now,  do  not  misunderstand  me.  No  one 
must  make  assertions  which  he  is  not  ready  to  substan- 
tiate. Your  mother  is  too  intelligent  not  to  consider 
your  will  while  she  expects  her  own  judgment  to  be  re- 
spected. Show  a  certain  independence  ;  that  will 
strengthen  you  and  not  offend  her." 

Degenthal  remained  silent,  while  with  his  stick  he 
knocked  the  heads  off  the  flowers  by  the  roadside.  It 
was  a  new  experience  to  hear  that  which  he  had  always 
considered  a  virtue  criticised. 

Like  many  women  to  whom  fate  has  given  the  exclu- 
sive guidance  of  their  sons,  the  countess  had  influenced 
Curt  through  his  filial  sentiments.  Now  he  began  to 
understand  why  his  tutor  had  so  often  tried  to  change 
the  existing  circumstances,  but  the  uncomfortable  feel- 
ing which  so  often  accompanies  a  sense  of  being  in  the 
wrong  took  possession  of  him,  and  they  let  the  subject 
drop.  They  walked  on  in  silence  until  they  were 
obliged  to  draw  aside  in  order  to  let  pass  two  riders, 
whose  horses'  hoofs  made  but  little  noise,  owing  to  the 
soft,  sandy  soil. 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  59 

"  Thunder  !  What  horses  !  I  have  never  seen  finer  !" 
cried  Dahnow. 

"  But  what  a  rider  !  She  was  beautiful.  Who  can 
she  be  ?"   added  the  other  with  enthusiasm. 

"  Well,  if  she  wants  to  be  looked  at  she  must  not 
mount  such  a  gray.  It  is  the  finest  animal  my  eyes 
ever  gazed  upon." 

"  What  taste  !  The  lady  blinded  me  to  the  brute. 
Dahnow,  you  know  every  one  in  these  parts  ;  who  can 
they  be  ?  The  gentleman's  face  seems  familiar  to  me  ; 
the  lady  had  dark  hair." 

"  God  bless  us,  boy,  you  are  observant.  They  are 
not  natives  ;  such  horses  are  not  to  be  found  about 
here  ;  they  must  be  strangers.  Tourists  swarm  at  this 
season.  But,  friend,  if  you  can  bring  back  your  gaze 
from  following  the  beauty,  please  look  at  the  clouds." 

"  It  has  become  cool  and  looks  threatening  ;  we  must 
hasten  our  steps  if  we  mean  to  get  under  shelter  in  time." 

"  Run,  then,"  replied  the  stout  one.  "  Running  is 
no  joke  to  me  ;  one  gets  out  of  breath  and  wet  into  the 
bargain.     Now,  one  evil  is  enough  for  me." 

"  Then  I  leave  you  to  your  fate  ;  my  breath  can  run 
a  race  with  the  storm.  At  four  we  meet,  provided  you 
are  not  washed  away  in  the  mean  time  ;  there  is  no 
danger  of  your  being  blown  away." 

Dahnow  phlegmatically  buttoned  his  coat  around 
him,  and  plodded  resolutely  through  the  snow  and  hail, 
which  began  to  fall  heavily.  As  he  approached  the 
town  he  met  the  equestrians  returning.  As  they  were 
passing  him  the  lady's  hat  flew  off,  and  was  carried  by 


6o  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

the  wind  along  the  muddy  road.  The  accident  caused 
her  to  rein  up  her  galloping  horse,  and  she  did  it  with 
a  skill  that  was  not  lost  on  his  appreciative  eye. 

With  an  agility  scarcely  to  be  credited  in  one  of  his 
build,  he  sprang  forward  and  saved  the  hat  just  as  it 
was  on  the  point  of  falling  into  a  deep  dyke,  and  car- 
ried it  back  to  its  owner.  A  small  gloved  hand  was 
stretched  to  receive  it,  a  glowing  countenance  looked 
out  from  a  wealth  of  wet  hair,  and  a  pair  of  deep  blue 
eyes  shone  with  such  a  sweet  expression  of  gratitude, 
that  even  the  tightly-buttoned  overcoat  did  not  keep  its 
owner  proof  against  a  certain  delight  which  shot  to  the 
heart  of  our  fat  student.  The  high  wind  wafted  away 
her  spoken  thanks,  and  the  truant  hat  once  safely 
secured,  the  fair  rider  followed  her  companion  on  a  full 
gallop  and  was  soon  lost  to  sight. 

"  By  George  !"  muttered  Dahnow  to  himself.  "  The 
rascal  was  right  ;  she  is  a  beauty  !  If  it  were  not  for 
the  miserable  plight  in  which  the  storm  has  left  me  I 
would  hunt  through  the  hotels  until  I  found  her 
name  ;  but  as  it  is  I  would  cut  a  pretty  figure,"  he 
added,  as  he  looked  down  sadly  on  his  wet  and  muddy 
clothes. 

A  couple  of  hours  later  the  joyous  voice  of  Degenthal 
greeted  him  with  the  words,  "  Hello  !  You  are  not 
drowned." 

"  No,  as  you  may  perceive  ;  and,  furthermore,  I  have 
had  a  lucky  adventure." 

"  Fat  people  are  always  lucky." 

"  Your  grayhound  put  you  on  a  wrong  scent.     Guess 


THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER.  6l 

whom  I  have  seen.  Such  a  providential  opening  to  an 
introduction  !     A  truly  knightly  service." 

"  What  !  To  the  pretty  equestrienne  ?  She  fell  from 
her  horse,  and  you  saved  her?" 

"  Unfortunately  only  her  hat." 

"  Unfortunately,  wretch  !     Who  is  she  ?" 

"  It  was  not  written  on  the  hat." 

"  Pshaw  !  Your  acquaintance  did  not  go  far.  Come, 
let  us  go  in  ;  the  others  are  waiting  for  us." 

The  young  men  had  made  an  appointment  to  meet 
that  evening  to  give  a  dinner  in  honor  of  a  former  com- 
panion, who  had  returned  to  enjoy  a  few  days  of  student 
life.  They  were  gathered  round  a  table  somewhat  apart, 
and  soon  the  sound  of  merry  repartee,  laughing,  and 
the  popping  of  champagne  sent  repeated  echoes  from 
their  corner  of  the  dining-room.  Dahnow,  who  pos- 
sessed that  rare  talent  which  a  witty  Frenchman  de- 
scribed as  the  power  of  looking  serious  while  making 
others  laugh,  gave  an  amusing  account  of  his  morning 
adventure.  His  story  provoRed  many  light  questions 
and  witty  answers. 

Suddenly  Degenthal  stood  up  close  to  his  friend  and, 
pointing  to  a  stranger,  who  had  just  entered  and  taken 
a  seat,  whispered,  "  Look,  there  he  is  !"  Returning  to 
his  seat,  he  communed  with  himself,  "  I  am  sure  I  know 
him  ;  I  have  seen  those  features  before." 

Dahnow  turned  to  the  rest  of  the  company  and  said, 
"  There  sits  our  hero,  but  without  the  heroine.  He  is 
probably  a  tyrannical  father  or  a  jealous  husband,  who 
shuts  his  beauty  up  from  the  vulgar  gaze." 


62  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

The  eyes  of  the  young  men  turned  toward  the  new 
arrival,  when  the  guest  of  the  evening  broke  out,  "  In- 
deed, you  are  right  ;  he  is  very  particular  not  to  show 
his  womenfolk.  That  is  Karsten,  the  great  circus  di- 
rector.    I   saw  him   a   few  weeks  ago  at  W ,  where 

he  was  going  to  exhibit.  He  has  a  young  wife,  who 
is  pretty.  It  must  have  been  her  whom  you  young  gen- 
tlemen saw,"  continued  the  speaker. 

"  No,  no  ;  it  must  have  been  Nora — little  Nora  ! 
How  is  it  possible  that  I  did  not  know  her?  I  must  see 
her  !"  cried  Degenthal  excitedly. 

"  Nora — little  Nora  !  It  seems  that  you  are  rather 
familiar,"  said  Dahnow  with  astonishment. 

"  Nora  Karsten,"  reiterated  Degenthal,  not  noticing 
his  friend's  commentary.  "  No  wonder  the  features 
seemed  familiar.     How  beautiful  she  has  grown  !" 

"  Our  fox  seems  bewitched,"  chimed  the  whole  com- 
pany. "  Here,  fox,  is  to  your  equestrian  princess. 
She  will  not  be  so  coy,  surely,  as  to  refuse  her  acquaint- 
ance to  the  rest  of  us." 

The  light  tone  of  the  young  men  wounded  Degenthal, 
and  he  turned  to  them  with  an  earnest,  sad  expression, 
saying,  "  Gentlemen,  a  strange  accident  brought  my 
mother  and  the  family  of  Herr  Karsten  together.  Miss 
Nora  was  then  but  a  child,  and  being  under  my  mother's 
protection,  we  became  fast  friends.  That  is  all  there 
is  to  it." 

The  students  exchanged  looks  of  incredulity,  and  one 
of  them,  to  whose  head  the  wine  had  mounted,  lifted  his 
glass  with  the  toast,  "  To  our  fox's  youthful  friendship." 


THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER.  63 

Degenthal's  eyes  flashed,  and  he  was  about  to  return 
an  angry  reply,  when  Dahnow  arrested  him  by  drawing 
his  attention  to  the  fact  that  Karsten  was  about  to  leave 
the  room. 

Degenthal  hastened  toward  the  director,  and  in  a 
voice  trembling  with  emotion  said,  "  Herr  Karsten, 
allow  me  to  renew  our  acquaintance,  formed  in  Geneva 
— Count  Degenthal,"  he  added,  as  the  other  evidently 
did  not  recognize  him. 

"  Count  Degenthal  !  This  is  indeed  a  great  surprise 
and  a  real  pleasure." 

A  flood  of  recollections  seemed  to  choke  the  utterance 
of  the  director,  but  he  put  out  both  his  hands,  which  the 
young  count  shook  heartily,  adding,  "  I  saw  you  riding 
this  morning,  and  your  features  seemed  familiar  to  me." 

"  The  snow  has  fallen  here  since  those  days,"  said 
the  director  with  a  smile,  as  he  passed  his  fingers 
through  his  hair.  "  I  would  not  have  recognized  you, 
count,  which  at  your  time  of  life  is  a  compliment.  How 
is  the  countess,  your  mother  ?  I  owe  her  a  world  of 
gratitude."  The  voice  of  the  strong  man  trembled 
with  tender  recollection. 

"  Thank  you,  my  mother  is  quite  well.  We  still  live 
in  our  Moravian  home.  It  is  merely  my  university 
course  that  separates  us  at  present." 

"  And  now  you  are  enjoying  the  sweets  of  student  life  ; 
that  is  right.  Does  your  old  chaplain  still  live  with 
your  family  ?  He  once  had  the  goodness  to  write  to 
me,  but  my  wandering  life  makes  me  one  of  the  poorest 
of  correspondents." 


64  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

"  Oh,  certainly  ;  we  would  not  know  how  to  do  with- 
out him.  We  have  often  thought  of  you,  and  spoken 
of  those  days  we  spent  together  in  Switzerland.  Was 
that  Miss  Nora  who  accompanied  you  this  morning?" 
asked  the  young  man,  with  a  slightly  heightened  color, 
which  came  and  went  like  a  girl's. 

"  Yes  ;  that  was  my  daughter,  whom  my  recent  mar- 
riage enabled  me  to  bring  home  from  the  convent  where 
she  was  educated." 

A  perplexed  expression  passed  over  Degenthal's  coun- 
tenance, which  did  not  escape  Karsten's  notice.  An  em- 
barrassing pause  followed,  broken  by  the  latter  remark- 
ing, "  Even  in  a  wandering  life  one  needs  a  home  as 
one  grows  old." 

"  Accept  my  congratulations  ;  but  Miss  Nora  ?  May 
I  be  permitted  to  renew  our  former  acquaintance  ?" 

"  If  you  will  do  us  the  honor.  For  the  present  we  are 
stopping  at  the  hotel,  but  I  have  hired  a  villa,  where  my 
wife  and  daughter  will  remain  for  some  time.  The  wife 
requires  rest,  and  Nora  takes  no  part  in  my  business." 

"May  I  call  on  her  there?"  asked  Degenthal  with 
warmth. 

"  If  you  will  honor  us,"  repeated  the  director,  in  a 
tone  that  showed  him  determined  not  to  intrude  one 
step  on  their  former  acquaintance. 

"  At  what  hour  am  I  most  likely  to  find  you  and  the 
ladies  at  home  ?"  continued  Degenthal. 

"  The  mornings  I  devote  to  my  business  ;  the  after- 
noons belong  to  my  family.  We  shall  be  glad  to  see 
you   to-morrow." 


THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER.  65 

"  To-morrow,  then,  I  shall  have  the  pleasure  of  call- 
ing ;  in  the  mean  time  will  you  present  my  compliments 
to  Miss  Nora  ?" 

"  My  daughter  would  not  forgive  me  if  I  failed  to 
tell  her  of  this  meeting.  She  has  as  vivid  a  recollection 
as  I  of  your  kindness,  count." 

While  this  cordial  meeting  was  taking  place  the 
young  men  at  the  dining-table  were  keen  observers  of 
the  parties,  and  as  Karsten  looked  in  that  direction  he 
said,  "  Count,  I  think  that  I  observe  among  your  friends 
a  young  gentleman  to  whom  I  feel  indebted  on  my 
daughter's  account.  May  I  ask  you  to  introduce  me  to 
the  stout  gentleman  sitting  in  the  corner  ?" 

"  Oh,  my  friend,  Dahnow.  He  told  me  of  this  morn- 
ing's accident  ;  let  us  go  to  him.  Dahnow,  Director 
Karsten  wishes  a  word  with  you.  Director  Karsten, 
Baron  Dahnow,  a  sturdy  scion  of  the  Mecklenburg 
race." 

"  If  I  do  not  mistake,  baron,  it  was  you  who  came  to 
my  daughter's  assistance  this  morning,"  said  the  direct- 
or, bowing  with  all  the  grace  and  ease  of  an  accom- 
plished man  of  the  world. 

"  Unfortunately  my  figure  makes  me  easily  recog- 
nizable. I  must  acknowledge  the  soft  impeachment  ; 
but  the  honor  was  on  my  side  to  have  assisted  so  beauti- 
ful a  lady,"  said  Dahnow  gallantly.  "  If  you  will  ac- 
cord me  the  same  permission  you  have  granted  my 
friend  Degenthal,  I  shall  present  myself  to  receive  in 
person  the  acknowledgments  of  the  fair  lady  for  my 
knightly  deed." 


66  THE  circus-rider's  daughter. 

"  Certainly  ;  it  will  give  me  great  pleasure  to  have  the 
quiet  lives  of  my  wife  and  daughter  enlivened  by  your 
visits,  gentlemen." 

It  was  now  Dahnow's  turn  to  bow  low,  which  he  did, 
saying,  "  Pray,  join  us  in  drinking  to  our  further  ac- 
quaintance." 

"  I  should  be  pleased  to  accept  your  kind  invitation 
were  it  not  that  business  is  particularly  urgent  to-day, 
and  the  time  is  gone  by  when  it  would  become  my  gray 
hairs  to  join  with  your  young  locks.  Only  once  in  life 
does  this  golden  time  come,  so  you  will  kindly  excuse 
me,  count." 

Degenthal  stretched  out  his  hand,  and  with  a  bow  to 
the  party  of  students  Karsten  took  his  leave. 

"  What  a  handsome  man  !"  said  one  of  the  students. 
"  Some  suspect  that  he  is  a  wayward  son  of  a  good 
family,  others  that  he  is  an  officer  whose  debts  have 
swamped  him,  while  still  others  say  that  he  is  a  Jew  who 
has  mastered  Yankee  humbug." 

If  he  is  a  Jew,  then  I  am  one  !"  called  out  a  lusty 
Westphalian,  whose  light  hair  and  turned-up  nose 
would  have  cleared  him  all  over  the  world  from  any 
suspicion  of  Semitic  taint. 

"  Have  you  ever  seen  him  on  horseback  ?  Why,  he  is 
a  very  centaur,  and  his  skill  is  no  humbug." 

"  Fatty,"  called  out  one  of  the  party,  "  you  are  selfish- 
ness itself.  You  might  just  as  well  have  included  us  all 
in  the  pilgrimage  to  the  shrine  of  the  unknown  beauty." 

"  There  was  no  necessity  for  a  deputation,"  replied 
Dahnow  curtly. 


THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER.  67 

"Well,  we  shall  see  the  beauty,  nevertheless,"  con- 
tinued the  tipsy-head.  "  Degenthal,  here's  to  your 
belle.  Don't  be  so  churlish  as  to  hide  her  from  us. 
Here's  to  the  health  of  Miss  Karsten." 

Degenthal  sprang  to  his  feet  and,  his  eyes  flaming, 
said,  "  Sir,  you  have  no  right  to  use  the  name  of  a 
lady — " 

What  further  he  wished  to  say  was  interrupted  by  the 
unaccountable  falling  of  two  large  decanters  among  the 
glasses,  scattering  them  and  their  contents.  Everything 
was  in  confusion  :  the  guests  inquiring  the  cause  of  the 
accident  and  the  waiters  trying  to  repair  the  damages. 
In  the  viele'e  Dahnow  took  his  friend  by  the  arm,  saying, 
"  Come,  there  has  been  enough  of  this.  A  little  fresh 
air  and  an  honest  glass  of  beer  will  do  you  good.  Come 
before  the  others  notice  us." 

For  a  moment  Degenthal  hesitated,  and  then  con- 
cluded to  do  as  requested. 

"  You  can  pay  for  the  glasses  ;  my  part  was  to  keep 
the  peace  unbroken,"  said  Dahnow  with  his  habitual 
dryness  as  they  left  the  dining-ioom. 

"  Dahnow,  did  you  do  it  purposely  ?" 

"  How  else  could  I  silence  your  parliamentary  har- 
angue ?" 

"  But  why  did  you  Interrupt  me  ?  It's  shameful  to 
use  a  young  lady's  name  in  this  manner.  I  cannot  con- 
ceive why  you  should  object  to  my  expressing  my  views 
on  the  subject." 

"  In  the  first  place,  because  words  spoken  in  wine 
should  not  be  noticed  ;  in  the  second,  because  I   have 


68  THE  circus-rider's  daughter. 

too  much  respect  for  any  woman,  no  matter  what  her 
position,  willingly  to  drag  her  name  into  a  student's 
brawl.  Do  you  imagine  that  it  would  have  reflected 
any  credit  on  Miss  Karsten  to  have  you  pick  a  quarrel 
on  her  account  ?" 

Degenthal  was  silenced  by  the  correct  reasoning  of 
his  friend,  but  chafing  inwardly,  he  resumed  the  con- 
versation by  asking,  "  Why  do  you  lay  such  stress  on 
whatever  her  position  is  ?" 

"  Because  her  father's  business  leaves  her  open  to 
certain  familiarity." 

"  But  she  was  never  connected  with  it.  From  her 
earliest  childhood  she  was  taken  away  and  educated  in 
one  of  the  most  exclusive  of  Belgian  schools.  Her 
mother  was  a  woman  of  the  greatest  refinement,  whom 
my  mother  tended  in  her  last  moments,  which  was  the 
origin  of  our  acquaintance.  Her  father  has  got  ample 
means  to  give  his  daughter  an  independent  position." 

"  Notwithstanding  all  of  which  the  poor  girl  is  in  a 
trying  place.     Are  you  really  going  there  to-morrow  ?" 

"  Certainly  ;  nothing  more  natural.  My  mother  will, 
no  doubt,  be  pleased  to  hear  of  little  Nora,  in  whom 
we  all  took  so  deep  an  interest." 

Dahnow  did  not  seem  to  be  quite  so  confident  of  the 
countess's  extreme  joy,  and  said  in  his  half  ironical 
manner,  "  Well,  it  is  a  complicated  matter,  and  if  I 
were  blessed  with  a  mother  I  rather  think  I  should  con- 
sult her." 


THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER.  69 


CHAPTER  V. 

FACING  the  city  lay  one  of  those  charming  villas, 
such  as  the  poetic  mind  of  the  German  knows  how 
to  create  ,  a  gem  set  in  circlets  of  climbing  plants  and 
nestling  on  a  green,  shady  lawn,  which  was  broken  by 
gorgeous  and  odorous  flower-beds.  Many  such  resi- 
dences form  a  continuous  chain  along  the  suburban 
roads  of  Heidelberg,  inhabited  by  those  who  seek  to 
unite  the  social  enjoyments  of  the  city  with  the  love  of 
nature  and  its  refining  influences.  Each  villa  has  as 
many  windows  as  possible  looking  on  the  beautiful  river, 
whose  waters  are  so  dear  to  every  Rhinelander. 

Karsten  had  hired  one  of  these  home  nests  for  the 
summer  months,  and  there  installed  his  wife  and  daugh- 
ter, surrounding  them  with  all  the  comforts  and  lux- 
uries in  which  self-earned  fortune  so  often  revels,  in  con- 
tradis'tinction  to  inherited  means,  which  seems  sat- 
isfied with  what  time  has  meted  out.  There  is  more 
reason  in  each  of  these  characteristics  than  may  at  first 
appear.  The  consciousness  of  having  earned  what  he 
possesses,  and  the  feeling  of  the  power  to  increase  it, 
makes  a  man  more  reckless  in  spending.  The  labor  of 
acquiring  calls  for  necessary  recreation,  while  the  fact 
of  having  fortune  transmitted  breeds  a  sense  of  respon- 
sibility of  keeping  it  intact. 

The  one  state  also  calls  for  a  certain  exterior  show  in 


70  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

asserting  itself,  with  which  the  other  can  dispense,  its 
place  and  rank  having  by  circumstances  been  assigned 
to  it. 

Nora  was  seated  in  her  favorite  corner  of  the  cosey 
ifoudoir  opening  off  the  drawing-room,  which  commanded 
the  best  view.  It  was  the  month  of  May.  Six  months 
had  passed  since  she  had  taken  leave  of  her  beloved 
convent.  She  was  dreaming  of  bygone  days,  and  smiled 
as  she  reviewed  these  months  and  failed  to  find  in  them 
any  of  the  snares  and  dangers  which  her  desire  for  an 
earnest  life  had  pictured  to  her  imagination.  Her 
father  had  received  her  with  the  greatest  tenderness, 
his  sole  thought  seeming  to  be  to  surround  her  with 
everything  she  could  wish.  Her  young  step-mother 
was  an  amiable,  harmless  little  body,  very  much  occu- 
pied with  a  sense  of  the  change  in  her  new  position, 
which  her  golden  hair  and  blue  eyes  had  won  for  her, 
much  to  the  envy  of  her  old  associates  of  the  ring.  The 
director  had  spoken  the  truth  when  he  gave  as  an  ex- 
cuse for  his  second  marriage  his  desire  to  make  a  home 
for  his  daughter.  He  longed  to  have  once  more  a  place 
where  he  could  take  refuge  from  the  trials  of  his  wan- 
dering career,  but  he  was  now  too  old  to  seek  it  in  a 
circle  congenial  to  his  own  birth  and  his  daughter's 
education,  so  his  choice,  perforce,  had  to  be  made  from 
a  profession  not  bearing  the  highest  reputation  for 
modesty. 

Madame  Emilie  realized  that  her  best  policy  was  to 
win  the  good  will  of  her  step-daughter  ;  and,  indeed, 
she  was  too  light-hearted   and    indifferent   to   feel   any 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  71 

serious  unfriendliness,  and  Nora's  naturally  good  dis- 
position met  her  half  way.  What  her  father's  wife 
lacked  in  refinement  Nora  tried  to  think  was  compen- 
sated for  by  her  genial,  amiable  ways  ;  and  a  certain 
respect  for  the  superiority  of  her  daughter  maintained 
a  degree  of  restraint  in  her  presence  which  kept  con- 
cealed many  failings  of  Madame  Emilie.  Altogether 
Nora  had  so  far  found  her  changed  life  very  agreeable. 
The  constant  going  from  city  to  city  amused  her  and 
prevented  her  feeling  the  absence  of  congenial  com- 
panionship, and  the  luxury  with  which  she  was  sur- 
rounded blinded  her  to  her  real  social  position. 

Now  for  the  first  time  since  Nora's  return  from 
school  the  family  was  settled  down  to  domestic  life. 
Madame  Emilie  gladly  abandoned  all  direction  of  the 
household  to  her  step-daughter,  much  preferring  to 
give  herself  up  to  unalloyed  pleasure  ;  and  Nora,  who 
inherited  much  of  her  father's  executive  ability,  en- 
tered into  her  duties  with  delight,  and  soon  regulated 
everything  with  good  taste.  The  director  was  only 
occasionally  at  home,  his  presence  being  required  wher- 
ever his  circus  was  being  exhibited. 

Nora's  happiness  was  complete  when  she  became  the 
possessor  of  a  beautiful  horse,  and  this  was  the  only 
point  on  which  she  had  not  followed  the  advice  of  her 
old  friend,  the  Superior.  Having,  after  dwelling  on  all 
her  father's  love  and  generosity  toward  her,  written  of 
her  latest  prize,  the  Mother  Superior  had  replied  with 
strange  earnestness,  "Would  it  not  be  better,  dear 
child,  that  you  should  under  the  circumstances  entirely 


72  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

abstain  from  this  pleasure  ?"  For  the  first  time  the 
young  girl  put  aside  a  letter  from  her  cherished  instruc- 
tress, and  her  pretty  lips  pouted  impatiently,  while  a 
big  tear  filled  her  eye.  She  was  her  father's  daughter, 
and  the  love  for,  as  well  as  the  wonderful  dexterity  in 
managing  horses  in  her  extreme  youth,  now  seemed  to 
return  with  redoubled  force.  Her  good  sense  made 
her  see  the  reason  of  her  friend's  advice,  but  it  is  so 
easy  to  find  arguments  in  favor  of  carrying  out  what 
we  wish.  She  replied,  "  Oh,  leave  me  this  pleasure  ;  it 
seems  to  bring  me  so  near  to  my  dear  father."  Nora 
did  not  hear  the  deep  sigh  which  followed  the  reading 
of  this  letter,  and  the  nun  never  again  alluded  to  the 
subject. 

It  was  true  that  "  it  brought  her  so  near  to  her  dear 
father."  Karsten  was  never  so  much  in  love  with  his 
daughter  as  when  he  saw  her  on  horseback  and  proudly 
recognized  her  equestrian  talent.  He  could  not  repress 
a  slight  regret  when  he  remembered  his  promise  to  his 
dead  wife,  but  he  never  mentioned  it.  A  new  era 
seemed  to  dawn  on  Nora's  existence.  What  had  mysti- 
fied her  seemed  to  have  vanished,  and  a  something  for 
which  we  have  no  name  gave  to  her  countenance  an 
undimmed  brilliancy.  Early  on  the  day  of  which  we 
are  writing  she  had  ridden  and  managed  her  spirited 
horse  with  artistic  skill  ;  she  had  seen  to  all  the  cares 
of  her  household,  and  when  we  saw  her  in  her  favorite 
corner  she  held  a  pious  book,  for  she  was  scrupulously 
exact  in  following  the  advice  of  the  convent  to  let  noth- 
ing interfere  with  her  daily  devotions.     The  bright  May 


THE    CIRCUS  rider's    DAUGHTER.  73 

morning  was  not,  however,  conducive  to  study,  and 
every  few  minutes  she  raised  her  head  and  gazed  on  the 
smiling  landscape,  while  her  hand  toyed  with  the  foliage 
which  peeped  in  at  the  window.  Suddenly  she  turned 
round  as  some  one  entered  the  boudoir^  and  said  cor- 
dially, shutting  up  her  book  and  advancing  to  meet 
him,  "  I  am  so  glad  that  you  are  come  at  last.  Count 
Degenthal.  It  is  out  of  the  question  to  apply  one's 
self  this  sunny  day." 

"  Then  I  may  enter,"  replied  the  newcomer  ;  "  but, 
pray,  do  not  let  me  disturb  you   from  your  pet  corner." 

"  You  are  right,"  she  assented  ;  "  there  is  no  other 
such  nook  for  a  genuine  gossip." 

"  But  why  should  the  sunshine  disturb  you  ?"  the 
young  man  asked,  as  he  raised  the  discarded  volume  ; 
and  looking  at  it,  added,  "  Miss  Nora,  you  make  one 
feel  ashamed  to  see  you  with  such  a  serious  work." 

"It  is  necessary  for  me  as  a  counteracting  force. 
The  only  thing  I  have  to  complain  of  is  the  total  lack 
of  earnestness  in  my  life.  You  are  the  only  one  who 
speaks  seriously  to  me."  She  said  this  with  such  an 
innocent,  frank  look  in  her  eyes,  it  quite  touched  the 
young  man.      He  replied  : 

"  Seriousness  and  I  are  strangers.  My  life  were  lost 
in  amusement  did  not  my  college  life  claim  some  of  my 
attention  ;  but  you  have  only  just  escaped  from  the 
school-room.  You  complained  of  a  want  of  something 
to  read,  so  I  have  brought  you  something  appropriate 
to  this  bright  May  morning." 

"  Have  you  brought  me  something  to  read  ?"  seizing 


74  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER   S    DAUGHTER. 

the  pretty  gilt  volume.  "  I  have  nothing  but  my 
school  books.  But  do  you  think  that  I  can  read  this  ?" 
she  asked  timidly. 

The  young  man  did  not  smile  at  the  frank  question, 
for  he  understood  the  fears  with  which  her  careful  edu- 
cation filled  her  soul,  and  the  most  brilliant  repartee 
would  not  have  raised  her  in  his  estimation  as  did  this 
childlike  scrupulousness. 

"  Even  my  mother  would  recommend  this  to  you," 
he  replied.  "It  is  a  volume  of  extracts  from  our  best 
poets.  I  have  already  enjoyed  some  of  them  with  you. 
Do  you  not  recollect  this  ?"  He  read  well  with  a  re- 
markably sweet  voice,  and  Nora  was  a  good  listener. 
His  choice  was  a  melancholy  theme.  Youth  seems  to 
love  the  sad  as  much  as  age  seeks  what  is  joyful,  but 
the  deep  meaning  was  fully  appreciated  by  the  poetic 
nature  which  Nora  inherited  from  her  Irish  mother. 
Degenthal  knew  how  to  lay  stress  on  the  best  parts,  and 
words  and  thoughts  were  woven  in  an  imperceptible 
web.  As  they  sat  together,  their  hearts  responding  to 
a  sympathetic  appreciation,  they  little  dreamed  of  the 
power  that  was  encircling  them  with  a  magic  far  subtler 
than  poet's  words  or  May-time  flowers. 

First  love  is  heaven's  breath  that  binds  soul  to  soul, 
scarcely  conscious  of  how  the  soft  glance  and  the  hand- 
touch  thrills.  No  later  love,  though,  perhaps,  truer, 
deeper,  and  more  lasting,  leaves  the  same  remem- 
brance. 

For  several  weeks  Degenthal  had  found  himself  so 
much  at  home  in  the  director's  villa  that  he  was  hardly 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  75 

conscious  of  how  much  time  he  spent  there.  In  tlie 
first  visit,  which  he  made  with  Dahnow,  Nora  was  so 
governed  by  that  shyness  which  a  renewed  friendship 
often  causes,  that  he  had  said  with  more  or  less  disap- 
pointment, "  Well,  this  school-girl,  with  her  hair  in 
Madonna  bands  low  on  her  temples,  is  surely  no  siren. 
She  does  not  at  all  look  like  a  poor,  unprotected  damsel 
to  be  rescued  from  the  fangs  of  a  cruel  step-mother. 
Indeed,  the  little  blonde  rather  seems  to  stand  in  awe 
of  her  daughter  than  the  reverse.  In  our  rank-levelling 
days,''  he  continued  to  himself,  "it  is  not  worth  while 
to  lose  one's  time  with  an  awkward  girl  among  circus 
girls." 

About  this  time  Dahnow  had  gone  home  to  his  family. 
Notwithstanding  that  Nora  did  not  prove  wtry  piquante 
at  their  first  meeting,  Degenthal  could  not  divest  him- 
self of  a  certain  interest  with  which  their  first  acquaint- 
ance and  her  strange  story  surrounded  her,  nor  of  a 
feeling  of  responsibility  when  he  thought  of  the  mother's 
death-bed. 

Had  the  circus-rider's  daughter  been  less  pretty,  we 
will  not  undertake  to  say  that  this  feeling  of  responsi- 
bility would  have  weighed  so  heavily  ;  but  he  found  her 
not  only  adorned  with  all  the  beauty  which  nature 
could  bestow,  but  possessing  all  the  graces  which  a 
good  education  gives,  and  that  ease  which  is  so  appro- 
priately called  "good  style."  Degenthal's  early  life 
being  passed  essentially  under  female  influence,  made 
him  easy  in  woman's  company,  and  the  events  of  their 
childhood's  acquaintance  could  not  help  creating  some- 


76  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

thing  of  a  brotherly  confidence  in  their  present  inter- 
course. 

Madame  Emilie,  flattered  by  the  honor  of  having  a 
count  on  their  visiting  list,  at  first  tried  to  intrude  her- 
self on  them  ;  but  Curt's  whole  manner  was  so  different 
to  what  she  had  been  used  to,  that  she  soon  preferred 
to  absent  herself,  and  the  young  people  were  left  to 
enjoy  the  company  of  each  other.  The  serious  tone 
which  their  intimacy  took  might  have  astonished  lookers- 
on,  but,  as  we  have  already  said,  "  youth  seems  to  have 
a  fondness  for  what  is  sad."  Both  were  of  earnest 
natures,  and  did  not  enjoy  the  superficialities  of  the 
majority  of  the  frequenters  of  the  director's  villa. 

Nora's  education  made  her  view  life  from  the  same 
standpoint  as  Curt,  and  the  customs  and  manners  of 
which  he  spoke  were  those  for  which  she  was  prepared. 
That  which  recommended  the  man  most  to  her  was  his 
clear,  firm  faith,  and  the  unostentatious  manner  in 
which  he  acquitted  himself  of  life's  duties.  Her  deep, 
religious  training  had  impressed  her  with  the  conviction 
that  this  alone  could  sustain  one.  Her  step-mother  had 
belonged  by  turns  to  so  many  different  sects  that  she 
scarcely  knew  what  she  believed,  and  her  father's  mode 
of  life  had  long  since  obliterated  from  his  mind  any 
pious  sentiments  left  by  the  edifying  example  of  his 
first  wife.  Nora's  fondest  hope  was  that  she  might  be 
instrumental  in  leading  him  back  and  reawakening  in 
him  these  sentiments  at  some  future  time.  It  was 
pleasant  to  confide  this  hope  to  Curt,  and  to  find  him 
enter  into  her  thoughts  with  a  readiness  which  sprang 


THE    CIRCUS  RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  77 

from  the  long-cherished  idea  that  he  was  destined  to  be 
her  protector.  Often  he  wondered  over  her  future,  but 
this  was  the  one  subject  to  which  he  never  alluded. 
Indeed,  everything  seemed  so  unreal  to  Curt  that  he 
determined  to  enjoy  the  present  to  its  full.  He  had 
written  to  his  mother  the  particulars  of  his  meeting 
with  Nora,  but  she  had  treated  it  in  her  reply  in  such  a 
commonplace  manner  that  he  made  no  further  mention 
of  his  continued  visits. 

By  degrees  the  number  of  visitors  at  the  villa  in- 
creased. Nora  knew  too  little  of  life  to  remark  that 
they  were  only  gentlemen,  and  that  for  the  most  part 
they  belonged  to  the  student  class,  which,  however  at- 
tractive, is  not  always  bound  quite  strictly  by  the  ac- 
cepted rules  of  exclusive  society. 

Madame  Karsten  was  delighted  to  see  herself  sur- 
rounded by  worshippers  and  admirers  who  appreciated 
her  pretty  toilets,  nor  was  it  disagreeable  to  the  director 
to  find  such  pleasant  society  in  his  occasional  visits  to 
his  home. 

Nora  took  no  pleasure  in  the  public  entertainments 
which  were  so  much  to  her  step-mother's  taste.  It  is 
quite  true  that  she  was  strengthened  in  this  indifference 
by  a  look  from  Curt  on  one  occasion,  when  there  was 
question  in  his  presence  of  attending  some  exhibition. 
She  liked  much  better  to  join  her  young  acquaintances 
in  excursions  by  land  or  water  to  many  of  the  pictu- 
resque spots  in  the  neighborhood,  and  it  became  tacitly 
understood  that  Curt  should  always  be  of  the  party. 
He  exercised  a  kind  of  brotherly  protection  over  her. 


78  THE  circus-rider's  daughter. 

and  his  presence  seemed  to  give  her  a  feeling  of  secu- 
rity ;  indeed,  his  respectful  manner  to  her  and  to  Ma- 
dame Karsten  impressed  the  other  young  men  with  a 
like  sentiment. 

Weeks  went  by  in  this  fashion,  each  visit  bringing  its 
own  pure,  ingenuous  pleasure.  Toward  the  close  of 
the  month  of  May  it  was  proposed  to  make  an  excur- 
sion to  Rolandseck.  Madame  Emilie,  her  pretty  hat 
with  its  tiny  red  feather  partly  concealing  her  blond 
locks,  looked  so  pretty  that  she  attracted  general  atten- 
tion, and  the  young  men  were  constantly  by  her  side  ; 
her  little  nez  retrousse  SQ.e.vcie.6.  to  harmonize  well  with  her 
pert  answers  and  gay  laugh.  Occasionally  she  ap- 
proached rather  near  to  the  boundary  line  of  good  man- 
ners, for  dignity  was  not  natural  to  her,  and  it  was 
somewhat  of  a  relief  to  her  when  her  daughter's  quick 
steps  rather  left  her  behind. 

Nora  walked  fast,  for  she  always  had  a  fancy  to  enjoy 
the  first  impression  of  a  fine  view  undisturbed.  She 
and  her  inseparable  companion  soon  stood  by  that 
stone  arch  which  commands  a  view  of  the  rapid  stream 
and  the  peaceful  island,  the  panorama  of  wood  and  hill, 
city  and  village  ;  in  a  word,  that  indescribable  mingling 
of  nature's  charms  and  man's  activity.  Curt  did  not 
seem  as  much  impressed  as  usual  with  the  landscape, 
but  rather  gazed  steadfastly  on  his  companion,  whose 
eye  was  riveted  with  a  strange  expression  to  one  spot, 
apparently  forgetful  of  everything  else.  Nora  had  re- 
tained a  great  deal  of  the  simple  style  of  dress  of  her 
school  days  ;  simple,   indeed,  was  the  untrimmed  trav- 


THE    CIRCUS  rider's    DAUGHTER.  79 

elling  dress  and  the  broad-brimmed  hat  which  shaded 
her  face,  as  well  as  the  close-cut  bang,  to  which  Baron 
Dahnow  objected  so  decidedly.  She  was  pretty,  but  it 
was  as  yet  the  beauty  of  maidenhood,  yet  undeveloped 
like  that  of  the  unopened  bud,  which  shrinks  from 
rather  than  attracts  the  eye. 

Curt  found  something  so  strange  and  inexplicable  in 
her  expression,  that  he  looked  steadfastly  at  the  dreamy 
profile  which  stood  out  in  relief.  Suddenly  perceiving 
a  tear-drop  fall  from  the  long  eyelashes,  and  silently 
creep  down  her  cheeks,  he  leaned  forward  and  said 
timidly,  "  Nora  !" 

She  looked  at  him,  her  eye  moist  yet,  but  a  smile  on 
her  lip  as  she  said,  "True  knight!  True  brotherly 
love  !     The  poor  knight  of  Toggenburg  !" 

Curt  drew  back  ;  the  words  disturbed  him,  and  he 
said,  a  little  annoyed,  "Why  do  you  say  that?  Miss 
Nora,  have  you  thought  of  it .''" 

"  Thought  of  what?"  she  replied  innocently.  "On 
the  noble  knight  of  Toggenburg  ?  No  ;  I  only  was  re- 
peating the  passage  which  has  been  so  often  quoted  on 
this  spot  ;  but  let  me  tell  you  where  my  thoughts  were. 
The  old  cloister  down  there  with  its  little  cross  awoke 
longing  memories  of  my  dear  convent." 

"  And  did  they  remind  you  of  the  knight's  cruel  lady 
love  ?" 

"  Why  cruel  ?  Is  it  so  wonderful  to  love  God  so 
much  as  to  know  no  other  love  ?  I  have  a  friend 
who  does  so.  There  can  surely  be  nothing  so  beau- 
tiful   or   so    blessed,"    replied    Nora,    and    out    of    her 


8o  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

eyes  shone  something  like  the  longing  which  she  men- 
tioned. 

This  sentiment  struck  Curt  as  strange,  and  he  replied 
with  a  slightly  ironical  tone,  "  I  believe  you  would  be 
capable  of  keeping  a  knight  in  similar  suspense." 

"  Oh,  the  poor  Toggenburger  !  He  was  a  little  tedi- 
ous with  his  eternal  watching,"  she  said,  smiling. 
"  What  did  we  read  yesterday  ?  That  there  was  some- 
thing else  to  do  in  this  life  besides  love-making." 

"  But  if  a  man  cannot  overcome  it  ?"   queried  Curt. 

"  Man  must  understand,"  said  Nora,  with  all  that  de- 
cision and  energy  of  youth  that  has  never  known  what 
obstacles  mean,  "that  one  must  not  strive  for  a  heart 
that  belongs  to  God." 

"  But,  Miss  Nora  !"  remonstrated  Curt,  unable  to 
say  more. 

"  It  might  have  been  better  for  me,"  she  muttered  to 
herself,  as  an  expression  of  weariness  came  over  her  face. 

Just  then  the  voices  of  the  rest  of  the  party  were 
heard,  and  Nora  sprang  to  meet  her  step-mother  at  the 
foot  of  the  mountain,  questioning  her  as  to  the  cause 
of  the  delay  with  all  that  easy  grace  which  even  as  a 
child  she  possessed.  After  the  fatiguing  walk  every 
one  was  glad  to  lie  on  the  grass  or  to  rest  on  the  stones 
of  the  old  ruin.  Maitrank  was  passed  around,  songs 
were  sung,  bright  maidens  brought  spring  flowers  and 
ivy  wreaths  to  deck  the  strangers'  bonnets  and  button- 
holes. From  far  down  the  river  came  the  echoes  of 
music  and  gay  voices,  such  as  is  heard  in  all  its  con- 
tagion on  the  Rhine. 


THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER.  8l 

Of  all  the  gay  party  Curt  alone  remained  silent. 
Nora's  words  had  awakened  ideas  and  feelings  of  which 
he  could  not  rid  himself.  Could  she  be  longing  for  the 
convent  ?  Could  this  be  her  choice  ?  Was  this  the 
cause  of  her  peculiar  ease  of  manner  ?  He  had  often 
heard  it  said  that  it  was  generally  the  gayest-hearted 
who  entered  convents.  But  why  should  such  a  decision 
on  her  part  affect  him  ?  Would  it  not  be,  as  she  herself 
had  said,  the  happiest  thing  for  her,  the  safest  haven 
from  the  world's  storms  ? 

These  thoughts  disturbed  him.  What  !  must  this 
lovely  being  shut  herself  up  from  the  world  because 
there  seemed  to  be  no  place  suitable  to  her  here  ?  Must 
she  be  buried  behind  convent  walls  because  there  was 
no  place  to  claim  her  ? 

Curt  had  been  educated  to  hold  the  religious  life  in 
high  respect,  but  when  it  related  to  Nora,  the  only  view  , 
he  could  take  of  it  was  as  "  high_walls  and  being  buried       '_  ^  ^ 
alive,"  and  the  idea  that  she  might  choose  it  as  a  refuge 
from   her  disagreeable  position  took  possession   of  his^Cb^Tx 
mind. 

As  they  crossed  the  Rhine  ferry  she  sat  opposite  him. 
She  had  laid  aside  her  hat  ;  her  hands  rested  in  her  lap, 
and  her  features  had  assumed  that  pensive  expression 
which  is  so  often  the  accompaniment  of  evening  twilight 
and  the  monotonous  motion  of  sailing.  To  Curt's  im- 
agination she  seemed  already  a  nun.  It  was  like  the 
embodiment  of  his  thoughts  ;  he  saw  nothing  but 
resignation  and  sacrifice  in  her  features.  His  heart 
shrank    within    him,     and     bending     toward     her,    he 


82  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

whispered,  "  Do  not  go  into  a  convent,  Nora  ;  do  not 

go-" 

Nora  looked  at  him  frightened  and  bewildered.  In 
every  girl's  heart  there  lies  something  which  tells  her 
when  she  has  it  in  her  power  to  tease  a  man.  She 
looked  at  him,  and  with  a  smile  said,  "Why  not?  It 
is  surely  the  better  part." 

Curt  was  silent.  He  was  half  conscious  that  he  had 
done  something  stupid,  and  on  the  arrival  of  the  ferry 
was  glad  to  get  away  by  pleading  a  headache,  which 
was  sustained  by  his  former  silence.  But  in  his  dreams 
that  night  those  thoughts  with  regard  to  Nora  disturbed 
him.  He  saw  her  behind  barred  windows,  and  felt, 
without  knowing  how,  that  he  alone  could  rescue  her. 
Perhaps  he  would  have  slept  better  had  he  known  how 
long  Nora  lay  on  her  pillow  with  open  eyes  and  burn- 
ing cheeks,  asking  herself  the  question,  "  Why  does  he 
not  wish  me  to  enter  a  convent .''" 


THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER.  83 


CHAPTER  VI. 

DAHNOW  had  just  returned  to  Heidelberg  after  an 
absence  of  three  months.  Looking  around  him, 
at  the  little  welcoming  party  which  surrounded  him,  he 
asked,  "  Where  is  Degenthal  ?" 

Amid  a  general  shrugging  of  shoulders  and  many 
meaning  smiles  a  voice  answered,  "  Oh,  Degenthal  has 
something  else  to  do  ;  he  is  rarely  to  be  seen  nowadays." 

"  Love,  love  ;  thou  art  so  sweet  !"  called  out  another 
student,  placing  his  hand  dramatically  over  his  heart. 

"  What  does  all  this  mean  ?  What  have  you  all  done 
to  Degenthal?"  called  out  Dahnow,  looking  around 
him  impatiently. 

"  We  have  done  nothing  to  him  ;  it  is  he  who  is  so 
occupied  that  he  is  rarely  visible.  Probably  he  is  study- 
ing the  fine  aits  in  the  villa." 

"  Absurd  !"  broke  in  the  Westphalian.  "  You  are 
worse  than  a  set  of  gossiping  old  maids.  Some  of  you 
fellows  were  also  pretty  frequent  visitors  at  the  villa. 
Can't  one  look  at  a  pretty  girl  without  setting  everyone 
talking  ?" 

"  It  depends  on  how  often  one  looks.  Degenthal 
allows  himself  that  pleasure  without  stint." 

Now,  that  is  an  exaggeration,  He  has  been  on  a 
little  trip  up  the  Rhine,  otherwise  he  would  have  been 
here  to  see  you,  Dahnow,  for  he  often  speaks  of  you." 


84  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

Dahnow  breathed  easier.  He  had  not  heard  from 
Degenthal  while  he  was  away,  and  although  a  constant 
correspondence  is  not  necessary  to  male  friendships,  he 
could  not  shake  off  a  certain  feeling  of  suspicion.  He 
did  not  dare  ask  any  more  questions,  and  left  the 
little  company  accompanied  by  one  of  the  students,  who 
said  to  him,  "  Clement,  you  might  speak  to  Degenthal. 
Your  parents  were  old  friends.  I  did  not  want  to  say 
so  before  the  others,  but  I  do  not  like  to  see  him 
spending  so  much  time  in  that  villa  and  leaving  old 
friends." 

"  What  villa  ?"  asked  Dahnow. 

"  Now,  now,  you  know  well  ;  the  circus-rider's  fam- 
ily. That  is  no  society  for  him,  no  matter  how  much 
style  they  put  on.  The  girl  is  pretty  ;  I  have  seen  her 
ride,  but  it  would  be  a  shame  if  Degenthal  should  com- 
mit himself." 

"  Oh,  is  that  all  ?"  said  Dahnow.  "  He  knew  her 
family  long  ago  ;  an  accident  introduced  her  into  the 
family  of  the  countess.  It  is  a  case  of  childhood's 
friendship." 

"  Childhood's  friendship  be  hanged  !  Put  fire  and 
straw  together,  they  will  burn.  Warn  him  !  Warn 
him  !" 

"  Have  you  visited  the  family  ?"  asked  Dahnow. 

"  No  ;  some  of  our  fellows  go  there.  They  are  decent 
enough  people  ;  I  have  nothing  to  say  against  them  or 
the  girl,  but  in  our  country  people  associate  with  their 
equals,  and  it  prevents  much  unpleasantness.  Nothing 
can  come  of  Degenthal's  intimacy  but  harm  to  the  girl 


THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER.  85 

or  to  him."  It  was  seldom  that  the  Westphalian  spoke 
so  much,  but  now  he  was  all  excitement. 

"  Ah,  nonsense  !  You  Westphalians  seal  yourselves 
hermetically.  Others  do  not  presume  to  be  so  exclu- 
sive," said  Dahnow,  affecting  an  indifference  he  did  not 
feel. 

"  So  far  we  have  had  no  reason  to  regret  it.  Do  as 
you  will  ;  I  have  said  my  say." 

"  Well,  well,  we  shall  see.  Degenthal  knows  what 
he  is  doing,"  answered  Dahnow,  to  satisfy  his  adviser. 

The  Westphalian  shrugged  his  shoulders  as  he  moved 
away,  leaving  Dahnow  not  so  unmoved  as  he  pretended. 
"  I  shall  attend  to  the  fellow,"  soliloquized  he.  "  He 
is  the  stuff  to  be  guilty  of  such  a  stupid  trick.  He  is 
too  good  to  be  fast,  and  too  sentimental  to  be  prudent." 

The  "  attending  to  him"  was  not  so  easy,  for  several 
days  passed  without  his  seeing  Degenthal.  Every  time 
he  called  at  his  quarters  he  received   the  same  answer. 

Not  at  home."  Dahnow  tried  to  persuade  himself 
that  his  friend  had  come  to  his  senses  and  gone  for  a 
trip  ;  but  he  decided,  nevertheless,  to  look  for  him  at 
the  villa,  where  he  considered  he  was  privileged  to  call. 
One  afternoon  he  put  his  outer  man  in  the  best  trim 
and  started  to  make  his  visit. 

The  lady  of  the  house  gave  him  a  warm  welcome,  and 
inquired  most  cordially  of  his  home  and  his  trip.  Some 
geographical  errors  he  corrected  politely,  and  ever 
brought  the  quick-running  tongue  of  his  host  back  to 
the  desired  point,  but  to  all  leading  questions  she  seemed 
reserved  and  gave  no  information.     In  vain  Dahnow's 


86  THE  circus-rider's  daughter. 

gray  eyes  wandered  over  the  large  drawing-room,  until 
they  chanced  to  look  through  the  bay-window  into  the 
garden  where  he  recognized  two  tall  figures  talking  ear- 
nestly together.  The  lady  followed  his  gaze  and  said, 
"Your  friend  is  here,  and  will  be  glad  to  meet  you. 
What  a  serious  man  he  is  !  I  run  away  from  him  and 
my  daughter  when  they  have  discussions.  Shall  we 
call  the  learned  pair,"  she  asked,  with  a  coquettish 
air,  "  or  shall  we  leave  them  to  their  discussion  ?" 

A  further  tete-a-tete  with  the  amiable  baron,  who  said 
trifles  so  well,  would  have  pleased  her,  but  the  latter 
cleverly  concealed  the  real  object  of  his  visit  by  express- 
ing a  wish  to  pay  his  respects  to  Miss  Nora  ;  so  the  lady 
hostess  skipped  to  the  window  with  simpering  grace  in 
order  to  summon  her  step-daughter. 

"  Now  you  must  become  serious,"  she  said,  as  she 
looked  at  him  with  childish  affectation.  She  seemed  to 
think  that  the  naive  style  would  please  him.  "  Now, 
sauve  qui  pent,  I  hope  that  we  shall  see  you  often,"  she 
said  poutingly,  as  she  left  the  room. 

There  was  more  surprise  than  pleasure  indicated  in 
Degenthal's  countenance  as  he  recognized  his  friend. 
It  was  lost  on  Dahnow,  for  he  was  looking  at  Nora,  who 
greeted  him  in  a  most  friendly  manner,  quite  different 
from  the  stiff,  formal  being  on  whom  he  had  so  sum- 
marily passed  sentence  in  their  earlier  acquaintance. 
Her  figure  seemed  more  graceful  ;  couhl  it  be  the  effect 
of  her  light  summer  dress  ?  Was  it  the  arrangement  of 
her  dark  hair,  which  was  drawn  from  her  forehead  and 
fell  in  soft  curls  on  her  slender  neck  ?     Each  line  and 


THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER.  87 

fold  evinced  the  truly  womanly  desire  to  please.  Her 
eyes  shone  so  brightly,  her  lips  smiled  so  sweetly,  that 
it  seemed  to  Dahnow  that  he  had  never  seen  anything 
so  charming. 

"  You  have  come  back  sooner  than  you  intended.  I 
could  not  fancy  why  we  were  ordered  in,"  said  Degen- 
thal,  as  he  laid  his  hand  on  his  friend's  shoulder. 

"  Sooner  !"  repeated  Dahnow,  and  his  eye,  which 
wandered  from  Nora  to  his  friend,  had  a  twinkle  which, 
notwithstanding  his  phlegmatic  nature,  would  often 
light  up  his  face.  "  So  soon  !  The  three  months  must 
have  passed  delightfully  to  you,  and  you  could  not  have 
missed  me  much.  Have  you  not  received  a  pack  of  my 
cards  ?  For  the  last  week  I  have  sought  in  vain  to  find 
you  at  home." 

"  Indeed  ?"  said  Degenthal  absently.  He  seemed 
to  have  eyes  only  for  Nora,  who  had  wandered  into  the 
bay-window.  "  Yes  ;  I  was  away.  I  was  busy,  and 
did  not  hear  of  your  return." 

"  I  have  made  the  mortifying  discovery  that  you  can 
live  without  hearing  of  me.  Miss  Nora,  what  witchery 
did  you  use  that  my  friend  was  so  dumb  ?  Or  was  he 
so  studious  that  he  deserted  you  .>" 

"  Oh,  no  ;  Count  Degenthal  has  been  a  true  friend  to 
us,"  she  replied.  "  He  has  been  here  nearly  every  day. 
I  hardly  know  how  the  days  have  passed."  She  seemed 
suddenly  conscious  of  Dahnow's  sharp  look,  and  blushed 
slightly,  adding,  "  The  summer  has  flown  in  this  pictu- 
resque neighborhood  like  a  dream." 

"  Why  like  a  dream  ?"   broke  in  Degenthal  abruptly. 


88  THE  circus-rider's  daughter. 

"  Because  we  are  so  soon  to  strike  our  tents,  and  then 
it  will  all  be  so  different." 

There  was  something  like  complaint  in  the  ring  of 
her  voice.  Degenthal  looked  inquiringly  at  her,  and  a 
question  seemed  to  hang  on  his  lips.  Dahnow  began 
to  feel  that  he  was  in  the  way. 

Suddenly  Degenthal  jumped  up  and  said  a  little 
rudely,  "  Well,  you  do  not  seem  to  have  much  to  relate 
of  your  trip.  I  cannot  remain  longer.  Miss  Nora,  my 
compliments  to  your  mother.  If  I  do  not  see  you  this 
evening,  I  shall  certainly  to-morrow.  Then  you  must 
explain.' ' 

For  a  moment  her  hand  rested  in  his,  and  he  said, 
"  You  will  not  leave  as  soon  as  you  seem  to  think.  An 
revoir  !'"  Dahnow  was  taken  completely  by  surprise  by 
this  hasty  retreat.  He  intended  to  approach  the  sub- 
ject near  his  heart  on  their  walk  home,  but  his  friend 
had  disappeared.  The  description  which  he  tried  to 
give  Nora  of  his  trip  did  not  seem  to  be  very  interest- 
ing, for  her  eyes  were  steadfastly  turned  from  him  and 
fastened  on  the  garden,  through  which  Curt's  elastic 
figure  was  disappearing.  Was  it  merely  unintentionally 
that  she  pressed  the  carnation  which  she  had  brought  in 
from  the  garden  to  her  lips,  as  if  she  would  swallow 
every  atom  of  perfume  ? 

Clement  Dahnow  had  many  thoughts,  but  the  one 
uppermost  in  his  mind  was  the  wish  that  he  had  been 
the  giver  of  the  flower  wliich  was  so  affectionately 
pressed  to  that  pretty  mouth.  Two  hours  later  he 
walked  up  and  down  his  room   in  a  state  of  excitement. 


THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER.  89 

He  was  a  true  North  German,  who  reviews  all  those 
weighty  considerations  under  the  cover  of  his  own  roof, 
while  the  Southerner  prefers  to  think  them  over  in  the 
open  air.  His  room  was  filled  with  comforts,  another  sign 
of  the  Northerner,  who  even  to  student  life  brings  some 
of  his  characteristic  love  of  home  thrift.  Heretofore  he 
had  been  in  the  habit  of  looking  on  all  disturbing  ques- 
tions extended  cosily  on  his  sofa  and  through  the  smoke 
of  his  Havana  ;  but  to-day  all  his  composure  had  left 
him,  and  in  spite  of  the  late  summer  sultriness  he  was 
excited,  "  something  must  be  done  !"  he  said  to  him- 
self, "  something  must  be  done  !  We  must  not  allow 
this  young  fellow  to  be  so  mad  !  He  cannot  think  of 
marrying  or  of  making  the  girl  miserable.  Something 
must  be  done  !" 

The  often-repeated  "  Something  must  be  done  !" 
seemed  to  direct  his  steps  toward  the  writing-table,  as 
if  the  "  something"  was  to  be  found  there.  "  I  must 
write  to  his  mother.  Friendship  requires  it.  Perhaps 
she  may  know  what  to  do,"  he  soliloquized  as  he  sat 
down.  "  When  a  man  is  brought  up  under  petticoat 
government,  he  easily  becomes  the  victim  of  the  first 
tempter  he  meets."  No  sooner  was  this  sentence  ut- 
tered than  he  repented  of  it  as  he  thought  of  Nora's 
charms.  She,  at  least,  did  not  come  under  that  title. 
"Surely,"  he  continued,  "she  could  make  a  philoso- 
pher go  mad  ;  but  so  much  the  more  reason  that  Curt 
should  not  make  her  miserable  ;  and  his  position  for- 
bids that  he  should  marry  her." 

It  is  possible  that  Baron  Dahnow's  allusion. to  "  posL- 


90  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

tion"  came  from  the  idea  he  had  always  nursed,  that  he 
was  absolved  from  such  a  responsibility.  He  belonged 
to  an  old  family  ;  his  parents  died  when  he  was  young, 
and  he  became  owner  of  a  large  property.  As  the  older 
brothers  had  taken  care  of  propagating  their  name 
through  suitable  marriages,  he  felt  he  owed  nothing  to 
his  family,  and  could  follow  his  own  choice. 

Strangely  enough,  such  purposeless  single  men  often 
make  the  best  marriages.  Dahnow  seemed  at  this 
moment  not  to  be  troubled  by  his  own  love  affairs,  for 
he  rose  from  his  reveries  to  active  service  for  his  friend. 
His  mother  must  know  ;  it  was  his  conscientious  duty 
to  tell  her.  She  must  call  him  home.  Such  dreamers 
forget  easily,  but  she  would  never  forgive  him  as  an  old 
friend  were  he  not  to  warn  her  of  what  was  passing.  A 
circus  director's  daughter  !  That  would  be  a  tit-bit  for 
the  proud  countess. 

Finally  Baron  Dahnow  sat  down  before  his  writing- 
table  with  a  deep  sigh.  He  held  his  pen  irresolutely  in 
his  hand  some  time  before  his  thoughts  seemed  to  come. 
Then  he  wrote  quickly,  and  having  signed  his  name,  he 
threw  the  pen  down  with  the  words,  "It  is  the  devil's 
own  work,  this  tale-bearing,  but  when  it  is  necessary  it 
must  not  be  half  done.  It  is  better  that  those  hopes, 
which  I  gathered  from  the  step-mother  the  young  count 
has  been  giving,  sliould  be  nipped  in  the  bud.  The 
husband,  too,  pleased  me.  He  has  the  right  to  protect 
his  child  from  disappointment." 

Dahnow  seized  anew  his  pen  and  wrote  a  second  let- 
ter, which  seemed  to  be  somewhat  more  difficult  than 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  91 

the  first.  As  soon  as  it  was  finished,  signed,  and  sealed, 
he  gave  both  to  his  groom,  with  a  hurry  foreign  to  his 
nature,  to  dispatch.  Then,  drawing  a  long  breath,  he 
threw  himself  into  the  easiest  arm-chair,  took  a  cigar, 
and  assured  himself  for  the  tenth  time  that  he  had  acted 
right  ;  and  yet,  to  see  him,  one  would  not  have  sup- 
posed it,  he  looked  so  unhappy.  "  Hang  me  if  I  don't 
make  the  fellow  confess  to-morrow  and  listen  to  reason  !" 
was  the  last  resolution  come  to  by  the  honest  Mecklen- 
burger  at  the  close  of  this  annoying  day's  work. 

It  is  not  so  easy,  however,  to  carry  out  resolutions 
which  depend  on  another.  "  The  fellow"  did  not  come 
when  expected,  and  now  that  the  letters  were  beyond 
recall  he  was  doubly  anxious  to  try  to  influence  his 
friend.  After  some  days  he  went  up  to  Degenthal's 
"  booth,"  which  was  the  student  expression  for  room. 
It  was  open,  and  he  found  him  leaning  against  the 
window,  lost  in  thought,  with  his  head  between  his 
hands. 

The  latter  turned  round  with  a  questioning  look  as  he 
heard  the  step,  and  threw  himself  on  Dahnow's  neck, 
exclaiming,  "  You,  my  best  friend,  from  whom  I  wish 
to  conceal  nothing,  are  the  first  one  to  wish  me  joy. 
Clement,  she  is  mine.  I  possess  her  heart.  She  has 
loved  me  since  childhood.  I  am  so  happy  now  that 
there  is  no  more  uncertainty,  and  that  we  understand 
each  other." 

"What  uncertainty?  Understand  who?  Are  you 
mad  ?  Of  whose  love  are  you  speaking  ?"  said  Dahnow, 
roughly  releasing  himself. 


92  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

"  Yes  ;  mad  from  happiness  !"  answered  Curt,  his 
eyes  glowing.  "  Of  whose  love  do  I  speak  ?  Well, 
have  you  not  suspected  ?  Have  you  remarked  nothing  ? 
Of  course,  I  speak  of  Nora.  Have  you  ever  seen  a  more 
beautiful  creature  ?  Do  you  know  a  more  lovely,  ami- 
able being  ?     And  she  is  mine  !" 

"Are  you  stark  mad  and  blind  that  you  do  not  see 
what  a  senseless  path  you  are  entering?"  blustered 
Dahnow.  "  Must  you  be  told  to  your  face  that  you 
have  no  right  to  win  the  love  of  a  girl  whom  you  can- 
not marry  ?  You,  the  Count  Degenthal,  she  a  circus 
director's  daughter  !  Have  you  taken  leave  of  your 
senses  ?" 

Degenthal  drew  himself  away  and  said  bitterly,  "  Can 
you  not  leave  me  my  little  hour  of  happiness  ?  I  know 
all.  I  know  what  is  coming.  I  did  think  that  I  might 
have  one  day's  bliss.  It  was  only  this  morning  we  un- 
derstood each  other  and  spoke  our  thoughts,  and 
that  the  struggle  was  ended.  Oh,  it  was  a  weary 
time  !" 

"Time  is  the  only  remedy  for  such  madness,"  mut- 
tered Dahnow,  as  he  took  a  seat.  Degenthal  did  not 
seem  to  hear  him,  but  pushed  back  his  chair  as  he 
walked  to  the  window,  saying,  "  I  did  not  believe  it. 
I  feared  she  had  another  idea,  witli  whicli  I  would  not 
have  dared  interfere." 

A  sceptical  smile  passed  over  Dahnow's  lips. 

Degenthal  continued,  "  Particularly  when  she  seemed 
so  reserved  and  cold  ;  but  she  only  feared  to  betray  her 
love."     His  face  gleamed  with  pleasure  as  he  continued, 


THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER.  93 

"  I  feared  to  admit  to  myself  that  she  had  selected  the 
cloister,  for  I  felt  in  my  heart  that  she  alone  could  sat- 
isfy the  cravings  of  my  soul.  Were  it  not  for  this  I 
would  long  since  have  declared  my  intentions  and  saved 
her  much  unhappiness." 

"  I  cannot  understand,"  said  Dahnow,  "  how  you  can 
so  easily  alter  your  principles." 

"Principles!"  cried  Degenthal.  "  There  is  one  thing 
stronger  than  principle.  That  is  love  ;  and  when  it  does 
not  lead  us  to  evil,  there  is  no  need  for  any  inconsis- 
tency of  principle.  In  my  case  there  is  a  wonderful  dis- 
pensation. Nora  as  a  child  was  in  a  measure  brought 
to  me  and  placed  in  my  arms  when  she  was  worse  than 
an  orphan.  Her  mother  gave  me  her  dying  blessing, 
and  from  that  moment  I  felt  responsible  for  her  daugh- 
ter's fate.  Her  education  was  then  decided  on,  and 
was  such  as  to  lift  her  out  of  the  circle  in  which  she  was 
born.  To-day  she  is  the  equal  of  any  one.  I  have  re- 
flected on  it  all.  Perhaps  you  took  me  for  a  scoundrel 
who  would  win  her  love  unworthily."  He  glared  at  his 
friend  angrily. 

Dahnow  remained  silent  a  moment.  He  was  taken 
aback.  All  day  he  had  been  considering  how  he  could 
elicit  his  friend's  secret,  and  now  he  had  it,  as  it  were, 
thrown  at  him.  All  his  counsels  had  been  set  aside. 
Instead  of  warning  against  an  impending  danger,  a 
nameless  something,  he  stood  face  to  face  with  an  ac- 
complished fact,  and  instead  of  a  frightened,  wavering 
penitent,  Curt  stood  like  one  who  had  done  the  most 
sensible  and  praiseworthy  thing  in  the  world.     Dahnow 


94  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

did  not  know  what  more  to  advance,  and  merely  said 
laconically,  "  And  your  mother  ?" 

"  Yes,  my  mother,  that  is  the  point  ;  it  will  be  dread- 
ful to  her.  On  her  account  I  struggled  hard  with  my- 
self. If  it  were  only  my  own  happiness,  I  could  perhaps 
be  able  to  make  the  sacrifice,  but  Nora  is  to  be  consid- 
ered ;  her  whole  future  is  in  question.  Were  my  mother 
to  see  her  and  know  her,  she  would  see  that  she  is  sepa- 
rated from  us  only  by  accident,  and  that  she  is  in  all 
things  a  daughter  to  her  taste." 

"  But  your  mother  had  other  plans  for  you  which  are 
very  important  to  your  family." 

"  I  allow  no  one  to  decide  my  future  !"  said  Degen- 
thal  haughtily.  "  If  my  mother  considers  the  difficul- 
ties insurmountable,  my  younger  brother  can  take  the 
property.  His  portion  will  be  sufficient  for  me.  Nora 
is  all  to  me." 

"  Curt,  for  Heaven's  sake,  think  what  you  are  doing  !" 
cried  Dahnow.  "  Do  not  act  under  the  impulse  of  your 
enthusiasm.     Listen  to  reason." 

"  I  am  not  fanatical  ;  I  am  as  cool  as  you,  but  say 
your  say,  and  I  will  thank  you  for  it." 

Curt  seated  himself  opposite  his  friend.  Dahnow, 
who  at  least  wished  to  do  his  duty,  and  had  now  recov- 
ered his  composure,  said  all  that  could  be  said  and  that 
had  been  said  a  hundred  times  in  similar  cases.  He 
said  it  better  than  it  is  generally  said,  because  he 
spoke  coolly  and  without  exaggeration,  with  the  con- 
ciseness of  truth  ;  but  he  spoke  with  the  usual  result, 
when    the    strongest    words    fall    as    a    drop  of  water 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  95 

on  a  heated  stone,  fizzing  for  a  moment,  but  not 
cooling. 

"  I  have  considered  everything,  and  will  conquer  all 
obstacles,"  was  the  only  and  oft-repeated  reply. 

"  But  how  will  you  manage  with  her  father  ?"  asked 
Dahnow. 

"  I  have,  of  course,  written  to  her  father  ;  he  must 
have  my  letter  by  this.  Do  you  suppose  that  Nora  is 
the  girl  to  keep  such  a  connection  secret  for  an  hour  ?" 

"  All  right,"  sighed  Dahnow,  pleased  to  think  that 
the  director  would  be  prepared. 

"  I  shall  write  to  my  mother  to-day  and  tell  her  every- 
thing, only  begging  her  not  to  come  to  any  decision 
until  she  sees  Nora." 

"  She  will  not  see  her,  or  I  do  not  know  your  lady 
mother.  But  it  is  useless  to  argue  with  you,"  said 
Dahnow,  as  he  got  up.  "  It  is  incomprehensible  how  a 
man  can  build  his  whole  future  on  the  foundation  of  a 
moment's  enthusiasm." 

"  A  moment's  enthusiasm  !"  cried  Degenthal.  "You 
call  that  which  has  been  buried  deep  in  my  heart  for 
weeks  and  months,  and  which  I  believe  so  real  and  so 
true  that  it  cannot  change,  a  moment's  enthusiasm  ?  It 
is  the  only  thing  which  can  brighten  my  future  life.  Such 
moments  are  turning-points  in  our  destiny.  If  there  be 
such  another  pair  of  eyes,  old  fellow,  I  tell  thee  to  look 
into  them  and  see  what  such  moments  can  accomplish." 

With  these  words  Curt  laid  his  hand  affectionately  on 
his  friend's  shoulder,  and  said,  "  Come,  now,  give  me 
one  word  of  congratulation." 


96  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

"  I  cannot  congratulate  you  on  your  foolishness,"  re- 
plied Dahnovv  decidedly.  "  Clothe  it  as  poetically  as 
you  wish,  do  what  you  will,  I  can  say  nothing  else." 

Notwithstanding  the  severity  of  his  words,  he  shook 
his  friend's  hand,  and  with  a  warm  pressure  took  leave 
of  him.  Dahnow  was  young  himself,  and  although  he 
called  his  friend's  step  folly  and  madness,  he  possessed 
that  same  madness  in  his  own  soul  which  makes  men 
look  on  life  through  others'  eyes.  "  If  there  be  another 
pair  of  eyes,"  Curt  had  said  to  him  ;  and  the  next  day 
he  caught  himself  more  than  once  thinking  if  he  ever 
had  seen  such  loving,  innocent  eyes,  set  beneath  such 
graceful  arches  and  lighting  such  clear-cut  features. 
The  thought  took  such  possession  of  him  that  night  and 
day,  it  followed  him  until  he  was  on  the  point  of  saying 
to  Curt,  "  Lucky  dog  !"  but  he  repressed  the  fascina- 
tion, and  said  to  himself,  "  Folly,  folly  !  I  hope  no 
harm  will  come  of  it.  I  wash  my  hands  of  the  whole 
affair." 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  97 


CHAPTER  VII. 

CLEMENT  DAHNOW  loved  his  comfort,  but,  above 
all,  he  liked  his  undisturbed  mornings.  The  day 
on  which  he  was  robbed  of  his  usual  sleep,  his  coffee,  his 
paper,  and  everything  were  failures.  Degenthal's 
scrape  had  interfered  with  his  mental  quiet,  and  now  it 
seemed  to  threaten  his  ease  and  comfort.  A  few  days 
after  the  conversation  detailed  in  the  last  chapter 
Degenthal  stormed  into  his  room  in  spite  of  the  valet's 
protestations. 

Dahnow's  first  impulse  was  to  renew  his  arguments 
against  the  love  affair,  but  a  look  at  Degenthal  silenced 
him.  His  friend  was  deathly  pale,  and  with  painful  ex- 
citement held  out  a  letter,  so  crumpled  that  it  told  its 
own  tale,  saying,  "  Read  that  !"  and  strode  up  and 
down  the  room. 

It  is  the  peculiarity  of  lovers  to  impose  their  troubles 
on  every  one.  It  is  comparatively  easy  to  give  the  ex- 
pected sympathy  under  the  influence  of  romantic  even- 
ing walks  or  by  the  inspiration  drawn  from  star-gazing  ; 
but  the  lover  must  indeed  be  exacting  who  expects 
more  than  polite  attention  at  seven  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing, when  you  are  still  toying  with  your  pillow,  and  the 
glaring  sun  is  making  your  eyes  blink. 

With  rather  discouraging  coldness  Dahnow  read  the 
following  letter,  which  bore  Karsten's  signature  : 


pS  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

"  While  I  acknowledge  with  gratitude,  Count,  the 
honor  you  do  me  in  asking  the  hand  of  my  daughter, 
I  am  pained  to  be  obliged  to  withhold  my  consent.  I 
do  not  for  a  moment  doubt  the  sincerity  of  your  desire 
to  promote  my  daughter's  happiness,  but  your  youth 
deceives  you.  You  could  never  obtain  your  family's 
consent  to  this  union,  and,  putting  myself  in  their  place, 
I  consider  they  are  justified,  for  our  positions  are  so 
very  different  ;  but,  Count,  neither  can  I  consent  to  see 
my  child  enter  a  family  where  she  is  not  welcome  or 
form  a  connection  which  could  be  only  a  cause  of  dis 
cord  and  misunderstanding,  the  bitter  results  of  which 
she  would  have  to  bear.  In  the  excitement  of  your  feel- 
ings you  have  not  weighed  the  importance  of  the  step. 

"  My  daughter  recognizes  the  justice  of  my  views. 
I  shall  not  reproach  you  with  not  having  consulted  me 
before  gaining  her  consent.  We  elders  must  not  be  too 
exacting  with  young  and  loving  hearts.  I  regret  m}?^ 
absence  from  home,  as  rumors  of  what  has  occurred 
reached  me  too  late.  I  must  request  you  not  to  try  to 
change  my  daughter's  decision,  or  to  add  to  the  pain 
of  the  course  she  will  pursue.  We  shall  soon  leave  this 
neighborhood.  Do  not  try  to  find  her  new  abode.  You 
will  yet  thank  me  for  the  pain  which  to-day  I  am  causing. 

"  In  fullest  confidence  in  the  sincerity  of  the  honor  of 
your  intentions,  I  have  the  honor  to  remain, 
"  Yours  cordially, 

"  Karsten." 

Dahnow  was  about  to  exclaim  from  the  bottom  of  his 
soul,  "  Sensible  man  !"   but,  raising  his  eyes  from   the 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  99 

letter,  he  saw  Degenthal  standing  before  him  with  flash- 
ing eyes.  He  was  touched,  but  his  silence  did  not 
please  the  broken-hearted  lover,  who  said  : 

"  No  doubt  you  find  this  very  sensible  ;  quite  in  ac- 
cord with  your  own  ideas  ;  but  you  do  not  for  a  moment 
think  of  the  misery  this  horse-sense  costs  us.  Oh,  how 
they  must  have  tormented  her  before  they  persuaded 
her  !"  He  threw  himself  on  a  chair  and  covered  his 
face  with  his  hands. 

Dahnow  walked  up  and  down  the  room  several  times, 
and  then,  laying  his  hand  on  his  friend's  shoulder  as 
sympathetically  as  possible,  said,  "  Poor  fellow  !"  In 
his  heart  he  felt  much  more  inclined  to  sa}^  "  Poor  girl  !" 
Strange  as  it  may  seem,  we  often  sympathize  more 
deeply  with  the  love  troubles  of  the  other  sex  than  with 
those  of  our  own.  That  longing  look  after  Curt,  in 
which  Nora's  whole  soul  appeared  to  be  sunken,  came 
back  to  his  recollection.  He  could  not  quite  under- 
stand how  she  could  feel  so.  Men  find  it  hard  to  under- 
stand the  impression  made  by  other  men.  But  the  hon- 
est Mecklenburger  acknowledged  that  his  friend  had 
gained  Nora's  love,  and  his  soul  went  out  in  pity  to  her, 

"  Now  read  this,"  said  Curt,  handing  a  second  letter, 
as  he  recognized  the  sympathetic  tone  of  Dahnow's 
voice.  It  contained  the  following  short  sentences,  writ- 
ten in  a  girl's  hand  : 

"  It  was  a  beautiful,  but  unfortunate  dream.  Better 
that  we  should  part.      Farewell.     G(^d  bless  you. 

"  Nora." 


lOO  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

Dahnow  sighed  as  there  came  to  him  a  feeling  of 
being  to  a  certain  extent  responsible  for  all  this.  Both 
friends  remained  silent,  and  the  more  he  thought  the 
more  convinced  was  Dahnow  of  the  justice  of  his  first 
impression.  "  She  is  young  ;  some  other  love  will  con- 
sole her." 

"  Old  fellow,"  he  said  in  measured  tones,  "  although 
for  the  moment  it  may  seem  very  hard,  her  father  is 
right.   It  is  easier  to  break  off  now  than  it  would  be  later. ' ' 

Degenthal  rose  hastily,  exclaiming,  "  Do  you  believe 
for  a  moment  that  I  am  going  to  consent  to  this  ?  Do 
you  suppose  that  such  a  thing  as  this,"  and  he  threw 
Karsten's  letter  contemptuously  away,  "  is  going  to 
weaken  my  resolution  ?  I  would  find  her  if  I  have  to 
follow  her  to  the  North  Pole.  I  know  that  she  loves 
me,  and  no  one  shall  separate  us." 

Dahnow  felt  tempted  to  suggest  that  the  winds  in 
that  northern  climate  might  be  cooling,  but  his  previous 
remarks  not  having  a  happy  effect,  he  refrained  ;  and 
Degenthal  went  on,  "  I  have  tried  every  means  to  find 
out  her  whereabouts,  but  can  only  learn  that  she  left 
yesterday  morning  early.  Oh,  that  I  had  not  promised 
Nora  not  to  see  her  again  until  we  had  heard  from  her 
father  !  Yesterday  I  called  at  the  post-office  and  at  the 
telegraph  station,  thinking  that  Karsten  might  have 
left  his  address.  Now  I  am  starting  for  the  railway 
'station.  A  man  as  well  known  as  the  director  could  not 
leave  without  being  noticed." 

"You  are  out  bright  and  early,"  muttered  Dahnow, 
still  regretting  his  disturbed  slumbers. 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER   -    DAUGHTER.  lOI 

Degenthal  paid  no  attention  to  his  ill-humor,  but 
handed  him  a  letter,  saying,  "  I  received  this  yesterday, 
and  must  ask  a  favor  of  you.  My  mother  writes  that 
she  is  coming  here.  I  was  too  excited  to  understand 
just  the  exact  time,  and  besides  I  may  have  to  leave  at 
once.  Will  you  meet  her  at  the  station  ?  Read  the 
letter  ;  it  will  tell  you  when  to  expect  her." 

Dahnow  read  this  third  letter  resignedly,  and  said, 
"  Your  mother  is  not  coming  to  remain  ;  she  is  merely 
passing  through  on  her  way  to  Brussels  to  bring  your 
cousin  home  from  school,  and  she  expects  you  to  meet 
her  at  the  station  and  to  accompany  her." 

"  That  cannot  be  !"  declared  Degenthal. 

"  It  will  certainly  wound  your  mother  deeply  to  refuse 
her  request." 

"  Not  at  all,"  replied  Degenthal.  "  She  will  have 
received  my  letter  by  that  time  and  will  understand 
matters." 

"  It  is  very  questionable  whether  she  will  have  re- 
ceived your  letter,"  replied  Dahnow,  although  in  his 
heart  he  suspected  that  it  was  the  reception  of  the  letter 
which  caused  the  countess  to  propose  this  little  trip  for 
her  son.  "  Be  that  as  it  may,  however,  you  surely 
value  your  mother's  good  favor  too  much  to  give  her 
any  unnecessary  trouble.  It  is  just  as  difficult  to  under- 
stand this  indifference  to  her  feelings  as  it  was  your 
childish  dependence  a  short  while  ago." 

Sound  advice  generally  makes  an  impression,  even 
when  we  are  most  excited.  Degenthal  had  to  acknowl- 
edge the  truth  of  this  remark,  and  although  he  muttered 


I02  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

something  of  "a  more  important  affair,"  Dahnow  fol- 
lowed up  his  advantage  by  suggesting  that  a  day  sooner 
or  later  could  not  matter.  Karsten  was  not  a  man  who 
could  disappear  without  leaving  some  trace  of  his  des- 
tination. He  begged  Curt  to  accede  to  his  mother's 
request,  and  to  watch  his  opportunity  on  the  trip  to  win 
her  confidence. 

"  Well,  I  shall  see,"  muttered  Curt.  "  At  all  events, 
do  you  go  to  the  station  ;  if  possible,  I  will  follow  you. 
I  know  I  can  count  on  you  as  my  friend." 

"  Oh,  Lord,  if  he  but  knew  all  !"  thought  Dahnow. 
He  then  rang  impatiently  for  his  valet,  plunged  his  head 
into  a  basin  of  cold  water,  put  on  a  luxurious  dressing- 
gown  and  fez,  and  seated  himself  to  enjoy  his  coffee. 
But  there  is  no  use  fighting  fate.  The  brown  nectar 
gave  forth  its  aroma,  the  smoke  of  his  Havana  curled 
in  the  air,  the  morning  paper  still  lay  unfolded,  when 
another  guest  knocked  at  the  door,  and  would  not  be 
refused.  In  the  worst  of  tempers  Dahnow  threw  off  his 
fez  as  the  newcomer  stood  before  him.  He  was  a  slight 
man  of  middle  age,  whose  long,  black  coat  proclaimed 
his  clerical  profession  even  before  he  announced  himself 

as  "  Chaplain  L ,  former  tutor  of  Count  Degenthal. 

My  name  is  probably  known  to  you,"  said  the  stranger, 
"  through  Curt,  as  yours  is  to  me.  Baron  Dahnow, 
whom  I  recognize  as  the  count's  best  friend." 

Dahnow's  countenance  cleared.  He  had  heard  too 
much  of  the  good  man  not  to  welcome  him  cordially. 

"  No  doubt  you  guess  my  business,"  continued  the 
clergyman,  coming  directly  to  the  point,  notwithstand- 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  103 

ing  the  shadow  which  passed  over  the  young  man's 
brow.  "  In  the  first  place,  I  am  charged  to  express  the 
warm  thanks  of  the  countess  for  the  true  friendship  for 
her  and  her  son  which  your  letter  shows." 

'*  He  would  not  thank  me  for  it,"  answered  Dahnow 
sadly.  "  It  is  questionable  whether  it  is  right  to  meddle 
in  other  people's  affairs.  Nine  times  out  of  ten  you 
make  them  worse." 

"Well,  how  are  things  going?"  asked  the  clergy- 
man, without  noticing  this  last  remark. 

"  Good  and  bad,  according  to  the  view  we  take  of 
them,"  replied  Dahnow.  Telling  what  had  happened 
in  the  last  hour,  he  added,  "  Of  course  at  present  he  is 
determined  not  to  give  the  girl  up.  If  the  countess  ex- 
pects to  influence  her  son  by  argument  she  is  entirely 
mistaken." 

"  Do  you  think  this  is  a  plot,  as  the  country  people 
say,  to  catch  the  young  count  ?  What  is  your  opinion 
of  the  young  lady  ?"   inquired  the  chaplain. 

"  With  such  eyes  as  hers  she  has  no  need  to  plot  to 
catch,"  replied  Dahnow  angrily.  "  So  much  I  can  tell 
you,  sir  ;  and  if  I  were  fortunate  enough  to  possess  her, 
the  whole  world  could  not  induce  me  to  give  her  up. 
She  is  such  a  woman  as  a  man  loves  only  once  in  his 
life.  But  you  probably  cannot  understand  this,"  added 
he  apologetically,  with  a  pleasant  smile,  as  he  remem- 
bered that  he  was  addressing  a  stranger.  Dahnow's 
smile  was  very  winning,  and  made  you  forget  his  gruff 
moods. 

"As  a  child  she  was  pretty  and  unusually  gifted," 


I04  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER   S    DAUGHTER. 

acquiesced  the  clergyman.  "  For  her  dead  mother's 
sake  I  take  an  interest  in  the  child,  and  it  would  grieve 
me  to  think  that  the  course  of  education  which  I  had 
recommended  resulted  in  making  her  an  intriguante^  as 
the  countess  has  hinted." 

"  Who  speaks  of  intrigue?"  cried  Dahnow.  "Why 
will  women  always  be  suspicious  ?  What  more  natural 
than  that  a  young  man  should  fall  in  love  with  a  re- 
markably pretty  girl  ?  Were  it  not  for  the  undesirable 
profession  of  her  father,  Curt  might  well  be  congratu- 
lated. I  can  easily  understand  what  a  trial  it  is  to  the 
countess,  but  I  wash  my  hands  of  it." 

The  clergyman  looked  intently  at  Dahnow,  and  a 
meaning  smile  played  on  his  lips,  as  the  young  man 
stood  at  the  window  with  his  hands  buried  in  the  pock- 
ets of  his  Turkish  dressing-gown.  He  merely  said, 
"  I  don't  know  that  there  is  anything  for  us  to  do  as 
things  now  stand.  The  father  has  taken  it  into  his  own 
hand,  and  it  is  better  so.  The  countess  hopes  that 
Curt  will  not  only  accompany  her  to  Brussels,  but  to 
his  home,  where  other  interests  and  different  society 
will  distract  him  and  make  him  forget  the  temporary 
wound." 

"Do  you  approve  of  this,  sir?"  inquired  Dahnow 
indignantly.  "  You  must  have  a  poor  conception  of 
love." 

"  You  yourself  have  just  said  that  I  probably  cannot 
xinderstand  that,"  replied  the  clergyman,  smiling. 
"  However,  experience  has  taught  me  that  people  do 
forget.     It  would  be  unfortunate  if  every  youthful  im- 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  I05 

pression  were  ineffaceable.  You  yourself,  baron,  ex- 
pressed something  of  this  nature  in  your  letter." 

Dahnow  stroked  his  beard,  somewhat  embarrassed  to 
find  himself  caught  in  his  own  net. 

"The  countess,"  continued  the  clergyman,  "arrived 

yesterday  by  the  late  train  at  C .     This  morning  she 

sent  me  here  to  make  inquiries  of  you,  which  must  be 
my  excuse  for  disturbing  you  so  early.  She  wished  to 
get  some  information  before  noon,  and  I  think  I  may 
take  her  a  reassuring  message.  She  proposes  to  con- 
tinue her  journey  to-day,  and  expects  to  meet  her  son 
at  the  railway  station." 

"  She  had  better  not  count  too  securely  on  it,"  said 
Dahnow.  "  I  did  what  I  could  to  induce  him,  but  in 
his  present  frame  of  mind  he  is  capable  of  anything. 
But  really,  sir,  you  convicted  me  so  clearly  of  incon- 
sistency that  you  made  me  forget  the  pleasures  of  hos- 
pitality. Your  early  start  must  have  given  you  very 
little  time  for  refreshment.  Allow  me  to  offer  you 
some." 

Dahnow  prided  himself  on  his  private  cellar  and  his 
knowledge  of  good  living.  A  sign  to  his  valet  brought 
a  most  tempting  little  breakfast. 

Here  is  to  our  onslaught  on  love,"  proposed  Dah- 
now, handing  a  glass  of  sherry  to  the  chaplain.  "  Were 
I  not  such  a  hardened  heretic  I  might  envy  your  calling, 
which  saves  you  from  these  troubles." 

"  I  cannot  drink  to  the  onslaught,"  objected  his 
guest.  "  God  knows,  were  there  not  such  serious  ob- 
stacles I  would  not  act  as  I  am  now  doing.     I  am  of 


io6  THE  circus-rider's  daughter. 

your  opinion  that  it  is  a  bad  thing  to  meddle  with  other 
people's  affairs.  This  poor  girl  had  enough  to  contend 
with  in  life  without  this.  May  God  help  her  to  bear 
the  trial." 

"  You  are  very  good  to  say  so,"  said  Dahnow  rever- 
ently, and  changing  his  tone,  he  added,  "  Bah  !  women 
forget  easily  and  quickly  find  consolation.  We  are  the 
greatest  sufferers." 

In  the  afternoon  he  was  at  the  station  at  the  appointed 
hour,  and  found  Degenthal  there  with  a  small  travel- 
ling satchel.  He  approached  Dahnow  and  said,  "  I 
have  decided  to  join  my  mother,  but  I  shall  be  back  the 
day  after  to-morrow.      Meet  me  here." 

There  were  but  a  few  minutes  for  an  introduction  to 
the  countess,  and  a  cordial  reception  from  her,  when  the 
train  started. 

"  A  resolute  face  has  the  lady  mother,  not  to  be  easily 
mollified,"  soliloquized  Dahnow  on  his  return  to  his 
quarters.  "  So  much  the  better  if  the  fair  cousin  prove 
a  charmer.  Yet  the  fellow  shows  more  will  than  I  gave 
him  credit  for.  Poor  Nora  !  Poor  Nora  !  But,  as  the 
chaplain  says,  it  would  be  unfortunate  if  every  youth- 
ful impression  were  ineffaceable.  I  have  delivered  him 
into  the  hands  of  his  mother  ;  further  I  shall  not  inter- 
fere, come  what  may." 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  I07 


CHAPTER  VIIT. 

DELIVERED  into  her  hands — with  these  words  Dah- 
novv  had  expressed  the  sum  of  the  countess's  wishes. 
Like  most  women  who  have  once  obtained  complete  con- 
trol, she  attributed  all  subsequent  mistakes  to  a  diminu- 
tion of  that  authority.  At  the  suggestion  of  the  chap- 
lain, who  recognized  the  young  man's  lack  of  decision 
and  self-confidence,  Curt  had  been  sent  to  Heidelberg. 
The  mother  had  consented  very  unwillingly,  and  now  it 
was  a  comfort  to  think  that  the  trouble  resulted  from 
not  following  her  opinion.  It  was  a  hard  blow  that  had 
struck  her.  Hers  was  a  nature  guided  solely  by  prin- 
ciple ;  her  every  action  was  ruled  by  it  ;  as  we  have  al- 
ready seen,  a  stern  sense  of  duty  had  always  been  the 
rule  of  her  life.  But  in  energetic  natures,  especially  in 
women,  there  lies  danger  in  what  they  may  consider  to 
come  within  the  sphere  of  their  duties,  and  how  far  they 
try  to  extend  it  to  others.  For  them  there  is  but  one 
step  to  tyranny,  if  the  heart  does  not  lend  its  softening 
influence. 

Widowed  early,  the  countess  had  displayed  marked 
ability  and  unselfish  sacrifice  in  the  management  of  her 
affairs  and  the  bringing  up  of  her  children.  All  her 
affection  was  given  to  her  eldest  son,  in  whose  more 
tender  nature  she  found  a  sort  of  completion.  She  had 
complete  control  over  him,  and,  like  too  many  mothers. 


108  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

forgot  that  some  time  a  stronger  than  filial  feeling 
would  yield  that  same  allegiance  to  another.  To  find 
that  at  his  first  introduction  into  life  he  should  prove 
false  to  her  principle  lowered  him  in  her  estimation. 
Her  maternal  vanity  would  not  allow  her  to  attribute 
this  to  her  want  of  influence,  but  rather  to  the  freedom 
of  student  life  and  to  intrigue.  She  was  convinced  that 
once  in  her  hands  he  would  be  saved,  and  she  consid- 
ered the  battle  more  than  half  won  when  she  saw  him 
ready  to  accompany  her  on  her  proposed  trip.  Dahnow 
was  mistaken.  She  had  just  at  the  moment  of  depart- 
ing received  her  son's  letter,  and  considered  his  an- 
nouncement as  the  climax  of  his  blindness,  and  not  to 
be  entertained  for  a  moment.  Accustomed  to  lose  no 
time  in  an  undertaking,  she  determined  to  call  her  son 
home.  Taking  her  niece  from  school  was  merely  an 
excuse  for  the  trip.  In  secret  she  hoped  that  the  pres- 
ence of  a  young  girl  would  make  home  more  agreeable 
to  Curt,  and  furnish  her  with  an  excuse  to  spend  the 
following  season  in  the  city.  She  was  one  of  those  who 
think  they  can  always  see  the  desired  success  of  their 
plans,  but  she  was  clever  enough  to  keep  her  own  coun- 
sel, and  not  a  word  of  her  hopes  passed  her  lips  on  the 
way.  Tile  pleasure  she  experienced  at  his  consent  to 
accompany  her  prompted  her  to  act  very  cordially  to 
Curt,  who  could  not  form  the  slightest  idea  of  whether 
she  had  received  his  letter  or  not. 

She  spoke  much  of  the  business  matter,  which  was 
the  excuse  she  made  for  her  desire  to  have  him  home, 
hoping   to   arouse    him    from    his    evident    depression. 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  I09 

Karsten's  answer,  of  which  the  chaplain  had  told  her, 
she  looked  on  as  another  move  in  the  intrigue,  which 
she  was  satisfied  she  would  find  means  to  forestall.  For 
the  moment  her  chief  study  was  not  to  allow  her  son 
out  of  her  sight,  for  she  flattered  herself  that  she  could 
read  his  thoughts.  On  the  morning  of  their  arrival  in 
Brussels  her  first  request  was,  therefore,  that  Curt 
should  accompany  her  to  the  convent  to  bring  little 
Lily  home.  Curt  was  not  at  all  disposed  to  go,  but 
when  a  great  sorrow  is  upon  us  it  is  easy  to  overlook 
mere  trifling  trials.  The  thought  ever  present  to  him 
was  how  to  find  Nora,  and  how  to  prove  to  her  and  her 
father  that  he  was  determined  to  overcome  all  obstacles 
to  the  accomplishment  of  their  happiness.  He  could 
come  to  no  decision  as  to  the  plan  of  action,  and  as 
Heidelberg  had  become  so  disagreeable  to  him,  he  was 
indifferent  about  returning  home  and  thence  prosecut- 
ing his  search.  The  abode  of  Karsten  could  not  possi- 
bly remain  a  secret. 

In  order  to  avoid  all  unnecessary  altercation,  he  ac- 
companied his  mother  to  the  convent  gate,  intending  to 
leave  her  there,  making  the  objection  of  nuns  to  male 
visitors  his  excuse.  The  countess  insisted,  however, 
on  his  coming  in,  as  the  Superior  was  an  old  friend  of 
hers  and  a  distant  relative,  to  whom  she  desired  to  in- 
troduce him.  They  crossed  the  little  courtyard,  and 
were  received  by  the  portress,  who  left  them  in  the  re- 
ception-room while  she  went  to  announce  them.  Both 
mother  and  son  had  too  much  on  their  hearts  to  enter 
into  conversation. 


no  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

The  nun  came  in  to  say  that  the  Superior  would  be 
down  in  a  few  minutes.  She  was  about  to  leave  the 
room  when  she  was  stopped  at  the  door,  and  a  soft  voice 
asked  to  see  the  Superior.  "Wait  here,  miss,"  said 
the  portress  ;  "  Mother  will  be  down  immediately.  You 
would  miss  her  if  you  went  upstairs.  Walk  into  the 
reception-room." 

"  I  have  merely  a  word  to  say  to  her,"  answered  the 
stranger  ;   "  but  there  are  visitors  here  ;  I  cannot  wait." 

At  the  first  word  Curt  started,  and  in  a  moment  two 
pairs  of  eyes  were  fastened  on  each  other. 

"Nora!  Nora!"  he  cried.  "You  should  not  be 
here  ;  you  have  no  right  to  be  here  !  I  shall  appeal  to 
all  that  is  just  in  the  world  to  prevent  it.  You  are 
mine  !     You  promised  to  be  mine  !"    he  cried  excitedly. 

At  those  words  the  countess  stared  in  horror.  On 
the  threshold  she  saw  standing  a  beautiful  girl,  whose 
hands  were  passionately  clasped  by  her  son.  She  saw 
the  girl  trying  to  release  herself,  and  then  lean  fainting 
against  the  wall.  Curt  received  her  as  she  fell  forward, 
and  he  called  out  to  the  frightened  Sister,  "  Go,  call 
the  Superior  !  Bring  some  restorative  !  See,  she  has 
fainted  !  This  young  lady  is  \x\.y  fiancee.  I  have  a  right 
to  care  for  her." 

With  these  words  he  bore  her  in  his  arms  to  the  sofa, 
from  which  his  mother  instinctively  rose.  The  Sister 
left.  This  was  an  unusual  scene  for  the  convent,  but 
her  woman's  nature  enlisted  her  sympathy  for  the 
young  couple. 

Curt   knelt  by   the   sofa  and   called    the   unconscious 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  Ill 

girl  by  endearing  names.  He  kissed  her  hands  passion- 
ately, imploring  her  to  tell  him  why  she  had  left  him. 
She  opened  her  eyes  ;  the  faint  had  been  the  result 
merely  of  the  unexpected  meeting.  "  Curt  !"  she  said, 
and  all  the  love  of  her  heart  sounded  in  the  word,  but 
immediately  she  sat  up  and  drew  herself  away  from  his 
embrace  as  her  eyes  fell  on  the  cold,  suspicious  face  of 
his  mother. 

At  the  same  moment  Curt  turned  around  and  said, 
"  Mother,  this  is  Nora.  They  tore  her  from  me,  but 
you  yourself  have  restored  her  to  me.  It  was  perhaps 
hard  for  you  to  appreciate  her  at  a  distance,  and  now 
God  has  granted  that  you  should  see  her  here,  and 
know  how  worthy  she  is  of  you.  A  letter  from  me  is 
on  its  way  to  you  explaining  all.  Now  we  beg  your 
blessing." 

"  I  received  your  letter,"  replied  the  countess  in  cold 
tones,  "  containing  folly  unworthy  of  response." 

"  Mother,"  cried  Curt,  "  understand  that  this  folly  is 
the  happiness  of  my  life,  and  on  it  depends  all  that  I  wish 
for.     To  attain  it  I  am  willing  to  resign  everything." 

"  We  have  had  enough  of  this,"  continued  his  mother. 
"  I  do  not  approve  of  airing  family  affairs  in  the  pres- 
ence of  strangers." 

With  these  words  she  turned  away  to  greet  the  Supe- 
rior, who  had  just  entered  and  viewed  the  excited  trio 
with  astonishment.  Nora  sprang  up  and  threw  herself 
into  her  arms. 

'■  What  is  the  matter,  my  child  ?"  asked  the  religious 
kindly. 


112  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

Curt  answered,  "  Madam,  this  young  lady  cannot  be 
lawfully  kept  here,  even  at  her  own  request.  You  have 
no  right  to  believe  her  words  or  to  receive  her  vows. 
She  has  been  frightened  and  over-persuaded.  This  is 
not  her  vocation.  She  herself  assured  me  that  her 
heart  belonged  to  me.      Nora,  you  cannot  deny  it." 

"  Who  says  anything  of  keeping  her,  of  vows,  or  of 
vocation  ?"  asked  the  nun  gently.  "  This  young  lady 
came  here  with  her  father  because  she  was  at  school 
here  for  ten  years.  Her  intention  was  to  remain  for  a 
few  days,  and  to-morrow  was  fixed   for  her  departure." 

"  No,  Nora,  you  must  not  leave  to-morrow  !  You 
cannot,  surely,  be  untrue  to  me  !  Cannot  your  love 
bear  the  trial  ?  Is  it  so  weak  ?"  cried  the  young  man 
importunately. 

"  Count,"  expostulated  the  religious,  "  as  long  as 
this  young  lady  is  under  my  protection  I  cannot  permit 
this  language.  I  know  not  the  cause  of  your  separa- 
tion nor  the  obstacle  to  your  reunion.  That  is  a  ques- 
tion for  her  father  and  your  family  to  settle.  Nora, 
dear,  you  had  better  go  upstairs  when  you  feel  suffi- 
ciently recovered." 

Nora  raised  her  head  meekly,  and  turning  to  the 
countess,  said  in  a  trembling,  sweet  voice,  "  Madam, 
I  could  not  have  dreamed  that  our  meeting  again  would 
be  so  bitter,  you  were  so  inexpressibly  good  to  my 
dying  mother.  Do  not  be  cruel  to  her  daughter.  It  is 
a  terrible  thing  to  cause  such  unhappiness." 

The  countess  was  so  angry  and  embittered  that  she 
hardly  heard,    but    replied    coldly,    "  You   have   woven 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  II3 

your  net  so  deftly  around  my  son  that  he  cares  nothing 
for  his  mother's  feelings." 

Nora  drew  herself  up  coldly,  and  said  with  a  proud 
self-possession,  which  impressed  the  haughty  countess, 
"  He  sought  me.  It  is  none  of  my  planning  that  we 
meet  to  day.      He  is  free." 

"Mother,"  pleaded  Curt,  "do  not  prevent  our  hap- 
piness. I  ask  your  consent  to  our  union,  but  if  you  re- 
fuse it,  I  shall  follow  my  own  decision.  Nora,  say  but 
one  word,"  he  continued  as  he  approached  the  latter; 
but  the  religious  interfered,  saying,  "  Speak  to  the 
father  of  the  young  lady,  or  to  her  in  his  presence. 
Here  I  cannot  permit  more.  Mr.  Karsten  is  staying  at 
the Hotel." 

Curt  looked  earnestly  at  the  speaker,  and  believing 
that  he  recognized  a  sympathizer  in  her,  said  to  her, 
"  Oh,  if  you  are  indeed  the  true  friend  that  Nora  so 
often  described  to  me,  tell  my  mother  how  worthy  she 
is  to  be  her  daughter." 

"  She  possesses  all  the  graces  of  mind  and  body  that 
would  grace  such  a  position,"  said  the  Superior  ;  "  but, 
dear  young  friend,  there  are  conditions  with  which  it  is 
difficult  to  fight  without  regretting  it  sooner  or  later.  It 
might  have  been  better  for  both  had  you  not  met  again. ' ' 

"  But,"  insisted  Curt,  "  it  seems  that  God's  provi- 
dence has  brought  us  together  for  the  third  time." 

"  We  are  very  apt  to  call  that  which  pleases  us  provi- 
dential," replied  the  religious  gently. 

"  I  cannot  remain  here  longer  ;  I  wish  a  carriage 
called,"  interrupted  his  mother. 


114  THE    CIRCUS-RIDERS    DAUGHTER, 

The  Superior  was  about  to  ring,  but  Curt  himself 
went  to  call  a  vehicle,  and  as  soon  as  he  had  left  the 
room  his  mother  sank  on  the  sofa. 

"  Clotilde,"  said  the  religious,  in  the  confiding  tones 
of  their  girlhood,  "  Clotilde,  I  feel  for  your  trial,  and 
understand  your  disappointment,  but  be  thankful  that 
your  son  has  chosen  no  unworthy  object  for  his  affec- 
tion. I  have  known  her  from  childhood,  and  were  it 
not  for  the  difference  of  station  he  could  not  have  made 
a  better  choice.  I  am  as  opposed  as  you  can  be  to  one 
marrying  out  of  his  station,  but  are  there  no  exceptions 
to  be  made  ?  The  feelings  of  two  such  characters  as 
Nora  and  your  son  are  not  fleeting  passions.  This  is 
the  union  of  two  pure,  young  hearts." 

I  never  change  my  principles,"  said  the  countess, 
"  particularly  with  regard  to  a  foolish  fancy  or  a  cun- 
ning intrigue.     This  is  duty." 

"  We  are  apt  to  call  that  duty  which  harmonizes  with 
our  own  feelings,  forgetting  what  we  owe  to  others. 
Clotilde,  do  not  be  hard.  You  may  lose  a  son  instead 
of  gaining  a  daughter." 

"  Speak  no  more  of  it,"  replied  the  countess.  "  I 
cannot  allow  any  one  to  influence  me.  It  is  my  desire 
that  Lily  should  hear  nothing  of  the  affair.  To-morrow 
I  shall  send  the  chaplain  for  her.  I  do  not  feel  equal 
to  coming  here  again.      Do  not  mention  my  visit  to  her." 

The  religious  promised  as  requested  just  as  Curt  an- 
nounced the  carriage.  As  mother  and  son  sat  opposite 
each  other  they  remained  silent.  Arrived  at  the  hotel, 
Curt  conducted  her  to  the  door  and  drove  away. 


THE    CIRCUS  RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  IIS 

"  What  order  did  my  son  give  ?"  asked  the  countess 
of  the  porter. 

" Hotel,"    replied    the    man,   and    she    guessed 

Curt's  destination. 


Il6  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

AFTER  the  scene  in  the  convent  reception  parlor 
Nora  was  conducted  to  her  old  room,  which,  with 
tender  thoughtfulness,  had  been  prepared  for  her. 
Once  more  she  sat  on  the  low  bench  from  which  she 
had  so  often  looked  longingly  out  on  the  life  which 
now  presented  so  hard  a  scene  to  her  wounded  heart. 
In  a  little  time  it  had  sent  her  the  greatest  height  of  joy 
and  depth  of  sorrow  which  can  visit  a  young  heart. 
The  longings  of  school  days  passed  before  her  imagina- 
tion, accompanied  by  a  feeling  of  defrauded  rights. 
Strongest  of  all  was  the  thought,  "  We  have  met  again  ! 
we  have  met  again  !  He  loves  me  !  I  am  all  to  him  !" 
and  the  tear-stained  face  was  lighted  up  by  a  shy,  happy 
smile  as  she  raised  her  little  hand  before  her  eyes,  as 
though  she  dared  not  look  on  the  blissful  vision. 

In  the  little  room  the  events  of  the  last  few  days 
passed  in  review  before  her  thoughts.  Hardly  two 
weeks  had  passed  since  Curt's  misunderstanding  of  her 
allusion  to  cloister  life  betrayed  their  true  feelings  to 
each  other,  and  the  hopes  and  fears  which  had  filled 
each  heart  found  expression  and  happy  reassurance. 
Oh,  sweet  is  the  moment  when  first  love  finds  voice,  and 
heart  goes  out  to  meet  heart  !  Did  they  see  no  impedi- 
ment to  the  realization  of  their  hopes  ?  Oh,  yes  ;  but 
what  are  obstacles  in  such  a  moment  but  so  many  proofs 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S   DAUGHTER.  II7 

of  sincerity  ?  Curt  saw  only  a  mother's  consent  to 
win.  He  was  a  free  agent.  At  such  times  the  head 
may  think,  but  the  heart  blinds. 

Next  came  a  second  scene  to  Nora's  recollection. 
Her  father's  return  home  and  his  displeasure  at  the  re- 
sult of  what  he  had  looked  on  as  a  renewal  of  a  childish 
friendship.  How  differently  he  represented  the  obsta- 
cles which  she  and  Curt  had  looked  on  only  as  trifles  ! 
How  deep  the  chasm  between  their  social  stations  ! 
How  threatening  the  anger  of  his  family,  how  complete 
the  destruction  of  his  life's  happiness  !  She  again 
heard  the  sentence  pronounced  by  her  father,  "  They 
will  believe  we  laid  unworthy  schemes  to  secure  the 
match  ;  they  will  see  your  beauty  set  as  a  trap  to  en- 
snare him,  and  a  stepping-stone  to  attain  high  rank." 

This  argument  was  all-powerful  with  Nora.  She 
shrank  with  all  her  soul  from  the  degrading  thought. 
She  begged  her  father  to  write  to  Curt  what  a  mis- 
take they  were  about  to  make.  With  a  firm  hand  she 
added  the  concluding  sentence.  This  done  she  turned 
to  her  father  and  said  piteously,  "  Father,  take  me  far 
from  here  ;  the  earth  burns  my  feet  ;  let  me  see  him  no 
more.  Send  me  far,  far  from  here,  over  the  sea  to  the 
land  of  my  mother,  that  they  may  not  think  me  an  in- 
triguer." 

The  agony  of  his  child  was  heartrending  to  Karsten, 
and  he  bitterly  reproached  himself  for  not  having  been 
more  farseeing.  He  tried  to  soothe  her  wounded  feel- 
ings. In  order  to  counteract  any  suspicion  of  Nora's 
trying  to  capture  the  young  count,  he  decided   it  best 


Il8  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

to  leave  the  neighborhood  immediately,  and  wisely 
proposed  a  visit  to  her  former  instructress  at  the  con- 
vent, where  she  could  calmly  consider  what  course  to 
pursue:.  The  proposition  was  gladly  accepted  by  Nora, 
and  she  and  her  father  lost  no  time  in  starting  for  Brus- 
sels, leaving  the  care  of  breaking  up  the  temporary 
home  to  Madame  Karsten. 

The  kind  Mother  Superior  received  her  former  charge 
with  cordiality,  but  grieved  to  see  that  the  troubles 
which  she  anticipated  for  her  had  come  so  soon.  She 
heartily  approved  of  Nora's  wish  to  visit  her  mother's 
relatives,  but  the  director  could  not  be  brought  to  view 
the  plan  favorably,  and  this  was  the  cause  of  the  unex- 
pected meeting  of  the  young  lovers.  Perhaps  a  few 
days  would  have  saved  Nora  from  Curt's  influence,  but 
she  viewed  the  coincidence  differently.  She  was  sin- 
cere in  sacrificing  her  personal  feelings  to  his  supposed 
happiness,  but  this  morning  his  words  seemed  a  re- 
proach to  her.  "  Is  your  love  so  weak  that  it  cannot 
bear  this  trial?"  Her  sacrifice  now  looked  like  weak- 
ness, disloyalty,  and  miserable  pride.  They  had  both 
considered  all  the  obstacles  which  her  father  had  raised, 
but  they  had  all  yielded  to  the  pleadings  of  Curt's  love. 
Was  it  really  conducive  to  his  happiness  to  give  him 
up  ?  What  love  spoke  from  his  every  feature  yester- 
day !  She  asked  herself  if  she  was  willing  to  suffer 
everything  for  his  love,  why  not  give  him  credit  for 
the  same  devotion  ? 

Her  trembling  hands  again  and  again  pressed  her 
poor,  aching  brow  as  she  tried  to  decide  what  she  should 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDERS    DAUGHTER.  II9 

do."  Give  up  her  love,  fly  from  him,  or  with  him  brave 
all? 

Who  can  say  what  would  have  been  the  outcome  of 
the  struggle  had  not  outside  influence  interfered  ? 

It  was  the  same  hour,  and  the  sun's  rays  cast  the 
same  shadows  as  on  that  day  when  Nora  was  called 
from  the  contemplation  of  the  far-off  mountain-tops  to 
the  Superior.  She  sat  buried  in  thought,  and  when 
summoned  to  dinner  excused  herself  on  the  plea  of  a 
severe  headache,  knowing  that  it  would  be  impossible 
to  see  her  dear  instructress  before  evening. 

Again  there  was  a  knock  at  her  door,  and  a  letter  was 
handed  in,  which  she  took  with  much  misgiving  and  a 
beating  heart.  The  handwriting  was  unknown  to  her, 
but  she  recognized  the  count's  crown  on  the  seal,  and 
immediately  knew  that  it  came  from  Curt's  mother. 
The  countess  was  one  of  those  natures  which  find  relief 
only  in  action.  As  she  sat  in  the  comfortless  hotel  par- 
lor, knowing  well  where  her  son  had  gone,  she  was 
almost  in  despair.  She  was  overbearing,  and  could  not 
brook  seeing  her  plans  interfered  with  in  the  least. 
The  long  habit  of  being  supreme  and  looked  up  to  with- 
out question  had  spoiled  her.  She  wished  to  act  with 
judgment  in  the  matter,  and  was  puzzled  what  to  de- 
cide on  as  the  next  step.  She  was  convinced  of  the 
uselessness  of  advising  her  son  ;  the  character  which 
the  Superior  had  given  Nora  occurred  to  her,  and  she 
asked  herself  whether  one  so  well  brought  up,  so  in- 
capable of  deceit,  so  self-sacrificing  would  be  willing  to 
enter  a  family  where  she  would  not  be  welcome  ;  or  if. 


I20  THE     CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

on  the  contrary,  she  could  not  be  induced  to  see  bow 
unfortunate  this  marriage  would  be  for  him  whom  she 
apparently  loved.  She  decided  to  write  to  Nora,  ap- 
pealing to  her  heart,  her  reason,  and  her  pride. 

With  burning  cheeks  Nora  read  the  letter.  After 
dwelling  on  the  many  objections  to  the  union,  it  said, 
"  Do  not  rob  me  of  my  son.  Do  not  come  between  him 
and  his  mother,  which  will  certainly  be  the  case  if  he  does 
not  obey  me.  Even  if  my  influence  be  strong  enough 
to  separate  you,  he  would  never  forgive  me.  They  say 
you  are  great-hearted  and  noble-minded  ;  then  re- 
nounce this  passion,  which  must  encompass  his  misery. 
We  women  are  capable  of  sacrifice.  Your  word  alone 
can  convince  him  of  the  chasm  which  lies  between  you, 
and  free  him  from  the  foolish  engagement  into  which 
he  has  entered.  Surely  the  fact  that  I  make  this  re- 
quest is  the  best  proof  of  the  respect  in  which  I  hold 
you,  and  my  gratitude  to  you  for  granting  it  will  be 
unlimited." 

The  ending  was  cleverly  put,  but  respect  and  grati- 
tude weigh  light  in  the  balance  against  that  which  is 
far  dearer  to  the  loving,  trusting  heart.  How  could 
the  countess  speak  of  her  own  heart  being  robbed,  and 
yet  think  so  lightly  of  asking  this  same  sacrifice  of  an- 
other ? 

Nora  read  and  re-read  the  letter  without  grasping  its 
meaning.  Could  it  be  that  she  had  been  nursing  im- 
possible hopes  ? 

Suddenly  she  sprang  to  her  feet  as  the  full  import  of 
the   countess's   words   dawned    upon   her.      Could    this 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  121 

cold-hearted  woman  ask  her  to  be  the  suicide  of  her 
own  happiness,  and  falsely  to  forswear  her  loyal  love  ? 
All  the  strength  of  her  father's  nature  arose  in  her  as 
she  exclaimed,  "  It  would  be  a  lie  !  it  would  be  a  lie  ! 
for  my  love  is  as  slow  as  his  to  acknowledge  any  obsta- 
cle insurmountable.  I  feel  that  I  will  not  lower  him. 
Our  thoughts  and  sympathies  are  the  same.  I  do  not 
wish  to  influence  his  decision,  but  I  will  not  be  false  to 
my  own  love.  He  shall  never  say  that  I  was  weak  or 
false." 

All  former  doubts  disappeared  ;  with  trembling  lips 
and  glowing  cheeks  she  seized  her  pen  and  wrote, 
"  Your  son  is  free.  My  father  was  the  first  to  refuse 
his  consent,  and  I  am  always  obedient  to  him.  No  act 
or  word  of  mine  shall  ever  influence  your  son.  You 
know  that  I  fled  from  him  ;  but  I  cannot  deny  the  love 
which  he  sought,  and  which  I  shall  ever  acknowledge 
and  feel.  I  shall  not  part  from  him  with  an  untruth, 
for  that  has  never  mitigated  a  sorrow  or  healed  a  wound. 
God's  will  be  done.  May  He  guide  our  footsteps.  My 
love  is  strong  enough  to  bear  and  wait." 

Nora  sealed  her  letter,  rang  the  bell,  and  sent  it. 
She  stood  a  long  time  at  the  window,  and  the  echoes  of 
her  written  words  seemed  wafted  to  her,  sometimes  in 
earnest,  sometimes  in  mocking  tones.  She  tortured 
her  heart  with  the  questions,  Had  she  acted  rightly  ? 
Was  it  her  duty  to  end  all  this  sweet  love  ?  Must  she 
consent  to  the  sacrifice  ?  These  weary  thoughts  were 
interrupted  by  the  entrance  of  her  true  friend.  Madame 
Sybille  was  tired  from  the  duties  of  the  day,  and  some- 


122  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

what  excited  by  the  scene  of  the  morning  in  the  recep- 
tion parlor.  Such  feelings  had  so  long  been  strangers 
to  her  that  it  was  difficult  to  handle  them.  But  there 
are  hearts  that  no  seclusion  can  render  callous  to  the 
sorrows  of  others.  Madame  Sybille  took  the  feverish 
head  of  the  young  girl  between  her  hands,  looked  gently 
in  her  eyes,  and  listened  lovingly  to  the  storm  which 
poured  from  the  wounded  heart. 

"  Happily  or  unhappily,  my  child,  earthly  love  is 
neither  a  virtue  nor  a  fault,"  the  Superior  said  sooth- 
ingly. "  You  have  acted  rightly.  No  one  has  a  right 
to  ask  this  sacrifice  of  you.  You  have  asked  counsel 
only  of  your  own  heart,  and  it  has  proved  the  best  ad- 
viser. But  do  not  think,  dear,  that  you  are  alone  in 
struggling  for  love  ;  the  strongest  and  the  weakest  have 
done  the  same.  It  is  no  supernatural  thing,  but  one  of 
the  sweetest  flowers  which  God  places  in  this  weary, 
earthly  pilgrimage.  Is  this  love  strong  enough  to  repay 
you  for  all  the  suffering  it  has  brought  you,  and  under 
the  circumstances  is  sure  to  bring  ?  Who  can  say  if  the 
sacrificing  of  it  now  might  not  save  you  many  long  years 
of  sorrow  in  after  years  ?  Oh,  yes  ;  I  know  love  is 
mighty.  Who  can  say  that  our  Lord  has  not  sent  this 
trial  in  order  to  save  you  from  a  still  greater  ?  For  the 
second  time  you  have  chosen  strife  instead  of  peace. 
May  God  guide  you,  my  child." 


THE    CIRCUS  RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  I23 


CHAPTER  X. 

AS  the  countess  read  Nora's  letter  a  smile  passed 
over  her  lips,  and  she  murmured  to  herself,  "  I 
thought  so,"  perhaps  denoting  the  influence  which  she 
gave  herself  credit  for  exerting  over  others.  She  had 
been  alone  for  several  hours,  her  son  not  having  re- 
turned home  since  morning,  and  the  chaplain  having, 
at  her  own  request,  taken  Lily  from  the  convent  to  see 
the  sights  of  the  city.  She  did  not  feel  equal  to  the 
task  of  entertaining  her  young  niece,  but  she  occupied 
the  hours  with  busy  thoughts.  Before  the  answer  to 
her  letter  she  had  determined  on  one  other  alternative 
to  keep  the  control  of  things.  "  One  must  allow  chil- 
dren their  toys  lest  they  become  obstinate."  After  com- 
ing to  this  conclusion  the  wrinkles  on  her  forehead  deep- 
ened, and  she  busied  herself  with  making  notes  on  a 
sheet  of  paper. 

The  chaplain  and  Lily  appeared  in  time  for  supper. 
The  countess  viewed  the  girl  rather  discontentedly,  for 
she  had  not  improved  in  appearance  since  she  had  last 
seen  her.  The  small  stature  and  the  inexpressive  fea- 
tures, not  much  noticed  in  early  childhood,  had  devel- 
oped into  an  ungraceful  figure  and  a  dull  appearance. 
Her  aunt  turned  from  her  impatiently  ;  here  was  an- 
other blow  to  her  plans.  Unconsciously  she  thought 
of  Nora's  tall,  slight  figure  and    speaking  countenance, 


124  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER'S    DAUGHTER. 

and  with  a  sigh  resumed  her  notes.  Curt  came  in  as 
they  were  sitting  down  to  supper.  He  appeared  heated 
and  tired,  but  less  excited  than  in  the  morning.  Al- 
though he  took  his  mother's  hand  and  kissed  it  with 
emotion,  her  reception  of  him  was  cold,  and  during  the 
meal  the  conversation  was  constrained.  Curt  often 
sought  his  mother's  eye,  and  seemed  to  await  an  oppor- 
tunity of  speaking  to  her,  which  she  pointedly  avoided, 
retiring  from  the  room  as  soon  as  supper  was  over  and 
summoning  the  chaplain.  The  young  man  scowled, 
and  all  look  of  affection  left  his  face.  He  stood  motion- 
less for  a  while  as  though  contemplating  following  his 
mother,  but  apparently  changing  his  mind,  he  bade 
Lily  a  short  "  Good-night,"  and  went  out. 

This  was  a  sad  beginning  of  home  life  for  poor  Lily. 
She  had  anticipated  so  much  pleasure  in  meeting  her 
cousin,  but  he  hardly  noticed  her.  That  something  un- 
pleasant had  occurred  between  mother  and  son  she  was 
persuaded,  and  with  a  certain  esprit  de  corps  she  espoused 
the  side  of  her  cousin. 

Next     morning    a   cab     stopped    at    the Hotel, 

from  which  the  chaplain  descended.  He  sent  his  card 
to  Director  Karsten.  The  latter  was  busy  writing,  but 
he  rose  hastily  as  soon  as  the  priest  was  announced, 
and  going  forward  to  meet  him,  whom  he  had  not  seen 
for  twelve  years,  stretched  out  his  hand,  remarking,  as 
he  looked  at  his  visitor,  "  Years  have  dealt  lightly  with 
you,"  for  the  peaceful  life  he  led  gave  the  priest  a  more 
youthful  face  than  one  might  have  had  a  right  to  ex- 
pect.    The   two   men   shook    hands   cordially,    and    the 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  I25 

director  asked,  "  Do  you  come  as  an  ambassador?  This 
unfortunate  meeting  has  renewed  a  state  of  things  which 
I  hoped  was  ended.  Please  say  to  the  countess  that 
she  cannot  regret  it  more  than  I  do.  Perhaps  I  should 
have  been  more  careful  and  foreseen  that  this  might 
well  be  the  result  of  the  education  which  was  selected 
for  my  child.  She  will  always  be  apt  to  consider  herself 
as  belonging  to  that  circle  of  society,"  he  continued 
with  some  bitterness  ;  "  but  I,  for  one,  see  an  impass- 
able barrier." 

"  I  come  as  a  mediator,"  said  the  chaplain.  *'  Has 
Curt  been  to  see  you  ?" 

"  Yes,  several  times,  as  I  was  not  in  at  his  first  visits. 
He  renewed  his  proposal,  and  I  repeated  my  answer. 
The  young  man  was  very  earnest  in  his  pleading,  and 
I  believe  that  both  he  and  my  daughter  are  equally  sin- 
cere ;  it  is  painful  to  disapprove  of  such  feelings.  Nora 
inherits  all  her  mother's  capacity  for  loving  ;  she  will 
be  very  unhappy.     My  only  child  !" 

Karsten,  after  walking  up  and  down  the  room  ex- 
citedly, stopped  before  the  chaplain  and  said,  "  Pride 
is  a  peculiar  thing,  and  your  calling  makes  you  say  it 
must  be  conquered.  I  repeat,  Nora  is  my  only  child, 
and  God  knows  what  sacrifices  I  am  ready  to  make  for 
her  happiness.  Do  you  believe  that  the  countess  would 
consider  a  proposal  ?" 

"  I  am  bearer  of  one,"  said  the  chaplain.  "  The 
countess  has  considered  the  difficulty  of  swimming 
against  so  strong  a  stream,  and  sends  me  to  offer  cer- 
tain conditions  to  you  and  your  daughter." 


126  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

"  Speak  on,"  answered  Karsten,  taking  a  seat,  and 
adding,  as  he  laid  down  a  recently  written  paper,  "  here 
is  my  proposition." 

"  The  countess  will  no  longer  withhold  her  consent  if 
the  young  couple  have  not  changed  their  minds  after 
two  years'  consideration,  holding  no  communication, 
however,  during  the  time,  or  at  most  merely  in  writ- 
ing," repeated  the  priest  in  the  tones  of  a  studied  mes- 
sage. "  During  this  period  all  that  has  passed  must 
remain  a  secret.  If  they  observe  these  conditions  faith- 
fully the  countess  will  be  true  to  her  promise  to  wel- 
come Miss  Nora  as  a  daughter  ;  otherwise  she  will  hold 
herself  free  to  act  as  she  pleases." 

The  director  listened  attentively  while  he  stroked  his 
long  beard  thoughtfully.  When  the  chaplain  ceased 
speaking,  he  said,  "  The  countess  counts  on  the  changes 
which  time  often  brings  ;  perhaps  I  am  actuated  by  the 
same  motives  when  I  accept  her  conditions.  So  be  it. 
The  young  people  must  submit  to  the  trial,  which  is  not 
too  severe  in  so  serious  a  choice.  Be  kind  enough  to 
tell  the  countess  that  I  fully  appreciate  her  hopes,  and 
heartily  join  in  them."  Suddenly  he  sprang  from  his 
seat,  and  walking  up  and  down,  said,  "  But  I  shall  de- 
fend my  child.  I  shall  remove  an  obstacle  which  the 
countess  did  not  mention.  I  am  fully  aware  of  the  for- 
tune which  Count  Degenthal  would  lose  in  the  event  of 
not  marrying  his  cousin.  This  loss  can  be  more  than 
compensated  for  by  the  circus-director's  daughter.  Say 
to  the  countess  that  my  daughter  is  in  no  need  of  hunt- 
ing   after  a  count.     There,   sir,    is  the   amount   of  her 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  12'] 

dower  on  the  day  of  her  marriage."  He  calmly  showed 
the  recently  written  sheet  of  paper  which  had  lain  on 
his  desk. 

The  chaplain  could  not  conceal  his  astonishment  at 
the  sum,  and  Karsten,  smiling  at  the  expression  on  his 
face,  added  bitterly  : 

"  The  much-despised  business  has  not  been  so  bad. 
It  more  than  quadrupled  the  small  portion  of  my  first 
wife  ;  the  half  of  it  is  Nora's  fortune.  The  countess 
can  satisfy  herself  of  the  trustworthiness  of  my  asser- 
tions by  applying  to  my  bankers,  and  I  hold  myself  in 
readiness  to  give  any  desired  information.  Tell  her 
also,  for  I  fully  appreciate  the  fact,  that  there  are  chasms 
which  cannot  be  spanned  by  golden  bridges  ;  tell  her 
my  daughter  can  claim  a  different  name  to  that  which 
I  bear.  She  can  take  her  grandfather's,  one  of  the 
proudest  in  France.  I  possess  all  the  necessary  docu- 
ments to  establish  this.  Nora  can  separate  herself  en- 
tirely from  me,"  he  added  in  a  trembling  voice. 
"  Through  love  her  mother  left  her  parents.  Nora  shall 
have  the  same  privilege." 

The  expression  which  passed  over  Karsten's  face  in 
uttering  these  last  words  brought  back  the  man  and 
scenes  of  former  years  so  forcibly,  that  the  chaplain 
seized  his  hands  and  said,  "  This  noble  act  is  worthy 
of  you  ;  Curt  and  his  mother  will  know  how  to  appre- 
ciate it." 

"  What  I  do  is  hardly  enough,"  replied  Karsten,  shak- 
ing his  head,  "considering  the  high  social  position  of 
the  count's  family.     The  conventionalities  of  life  must 


128  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

be  respected,  even  though  the  individual  may  suffer. 
Better  had  I  followed  my  own  judgment  and  been  spared 
this  vexatious  entanglement." 

"  Possibly  to  have  fallen  into  a  worse,"  added  the 
chaplain  earnestly.  "  Her  mother's  anxiety  was  not 
only  for  the  temporal,  but  the  eternal  welfare  of  her 
child." 

"  Yes,  that  is  the  pious  view  to  take  of  it,"  said  the 
director  lightly  ;  "  but  we  worldly  people  judge  by  the 
present.  Had  I  had  my  way,  Nora  would  now  be 
world-renowned  in  my  adopted  profession  ;  as  it  is,  I 
have  to  be  humbled,  and  yet  give  up  my  daughter. 
Such  is  life." 

The  chaplain  did  not  answer  this  sad  reproach,  seeing 
that  Karsten's  life  had  completely  changed  his  ideas  of 
the  value  of  birth  ;  but  after  a  pause  he  asked  kindly, 
"  Mr.  Karsten,  do  you  never  think  of  retiring  from  this 
wearing  career  and  enjoying  your  large  and  well-earned 
fortune  ?" 

Karsten  smiled  and  answered,  "  Fortune  !  Much  is 
needed,  my  friend.  Who  knows  for  how  many  I  may 
have  to  provide  ?  I  am  not  meant  to  fold  my  hands. 
Well,  it  suits  me,  you  see.  Now  let  us  consider  the 
happiness  of  the  young  people.  I  have  already  lost  too 
much  time,  and  must  leave  here  to-day." 

The  chaplain  rose,  and  the  director  parted  from  him 
in  the  courtly  manner  which  became  him  so  well.  Not- 
withstanding the  unselfish  and  manly  way  in  which 
Karsten  had  behaved  throughout  the  whole  affair,  the 
chaplain  could  not  free  himself  from  the  disagreeable 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  129 

impression  that  the  man  was  slowly  sinking  into  depths 
which  might  at  any  moment  engulf  him.  "  No  man," 
he  soliloquized,  "  can  withdraw  from  the  rank  in  which 
he  is  born  with  impunity.  May  God  grant  the  poor 
child  a  safe  haven  in  coming  storms  !" 

Curt  had  an  uneasy  night.  The  evening's  meeting 
with  his  mother  had  awakened  in  him  a  spirit  of  resist- 
ance. After  his  interview  with  Karsten  he  had  deter- 
mined to  leave  nothing  undone  to  prove  to  his  mother 
that  his  love  for  Nora  was  no  fleeting  passion  or  light 
fancy  ;  but  if  she  would  not  be  convinced,  then  he  was 
ready  to  sacrifice  everything  rather  than  his  love.  These 
trying  thoughts  were  at  length  followed  by  a  deep  sleep. 
In  youth  sorrow  provokes  sleep,  while  in  age  even  joy 
banishes  it. 

The  first  news  which  greeted  him  on  his  awakening 
was  that  his  mother  and  cousin  had  left.  He  sought  an 
explanation  from  the  chaplain,  and  each  moment  that 
he  waited  only  strengthened  his  resolutions.  At  length 
the  latter  appeared  and  communicated  the  conditions 
of  his  mother's  consent.  When  we  have  been  spending 
all  our  exertions,  mental  and  physical,  to  attain  an  ob- 
ject or  to  overcome  an  obstacle,  it  is  a  shock  to  find  that 
it  has  all  been  accomplished  independently  of  us.  Curt 
felt  overpowered  ;  that  for  which  he  had  in  thought 
strained  every  nerve  was  presented  to  him  as  a  toy  to 
appease  an  exacting  child  who  was  expected  co  become 
wear}'  of  it.  He  dared  not  refuse  the  conditions,  for 
this  would  evince  a  suspicion  of  his  own  constancy. 
He  could  not,  however,   affect  gratitude,  notwithstand- 


130  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

ing  the  encouraging  words  of  his  friend.  His  self- 
esteem  was  wounded.  When  he  went  that  evening  to 
exchange  pledges  of  loyalty  with  Nora  there  were  many 
things  which  did  not  add  to  his  comfort.  In  the  hall 
he  found  some  rather  peculiar-looking  persons  belong- 
ing to  the  troupe.  One  in  particular  struck  him  un- 
pleasantly as  he  heard  him  expressing  to  the  director 
his  "  pleasure  at  being  taken  into  the  company."  The 
penetrating  eyes  of  this  individual,  which  left  no  doubt 
of  his  Jewish  extraction,  were  fastened  inquiringly  on 
the  young  count,  as  though  he  suspected  him  of  look- 
ing for  a  position,  and  only  fell  when  the  warm  welcome 
extended  by  the  director  to  the  newcomer  put  his  sus- 
picions at  rest. 

Karsten  led  him  into  the  drawing-room,  saying  in  a 
somewhat  apologetic  tone,  "  Unfortunately  unforeseen 
business  necessitates  this.  Even  here  I  am  obliged  to 
be  busy,  and  am  hunted  to  death  with  inquiries." 

Curt  bowed  low,  and  for  the  first  time  felt  disagree- 
ably the  position  in  life  from  which  he  was  taking  Nora. 
The  thought  made  him  decide  that  during  the  two  years 
of  their  separation  she  must  be  removed  from  its  influ- 
ence. 

At  this  moment  the  sweet  face  of  his  enchantress  ap- 
peared behind  her  father,  and  put  to  flight  all  these  dark 
thoughts,  leaving  uppermost  the  one  that  she  was  "  his." 

Nora  saw  only  joy  in  tlie  change  things  had  taken, 
and  could  hardly  believe  her  father  when  he  explained 
it  to  her.  Was  it  the  effect  of  her  own  letter,  express- 
ing her  determined  constancy,  or  was  it,  as  she  loved  to 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  13I 

believe,  that  the  heart  of  the  countess  was  touched  ? 
The  conditions  seemed  nothing  to  her  ;  she  only  saw 
the  happy  result  of  their  fulfilment,  and  could  not  un- 
derstand why  her  father  and  Madame  Sybille  were  not 
more  enthusiastic.  What  was  a  two  years'  trial  ?  With 
smiling  mouth  and  glowing  eyes  she  said  twenty  were 
nothing  when  a  lifetime  stood  behind  them.  The  happy 
inexperience  and  the  loyalty  of  true  love  banished  time 
in  her  heart. 

Curt  remained  in  the  city  three  days — days  which  he 
determined  to  steal  from  his  term  of  banishment  and 
silence.  In  order  to  ensure  the  latter,  he  determined  to 
remain  as  short  a  time  as  possible  in  Heidelberg,  alleging 
the  necessity  of  attending  to  his  affairs  and  remaining 
near  his  mother.  His  natural  tenderness  longed  to  re- 
gain his  old  place  in  her  heart  and  to  win  her.  love  for 
Nora.  What  did  he  care  what  motives  the  world 
ascribed  to  his  change  of  plans,  so  long  as  he  was  sure 
of  his  happiness  ? 

As  far  as  Nora  was  concerned,  his  only  thought  was 
how  she  could  be  saved  from  the  surroundings  of  her 
father's  business  ;  but  her  filial  love  resented  the  thought 
of  separatmg  her  from  him.  The  director  himself  pro- 
posed the  desired  means.  He  had  long  wished  for  a 
home,  and  the  desire  was  stronger  now  that  his  wife 
looked  forward  to  new  duties.  He  proposed  to  pur- 
chase a  villa,  where  Nora  might  pass  the  period  of  their 
trial  in  the  society  of  her  step-mother,  or  with  a  suitable 
companion  when  the  latter  preferred  to  accompany  her 
husband  on  his  business  tours. 


132  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 


CHAPTER    XI. 

SOME  time  after  the  occurrences  already  related  the 
countess  removed  to  the  city.  It  was  the  first  time 
since  her  widowhood  that  she  had  left  the  seclusion  of  her 
country  estates,  and  the  necessity  of  introducing  her 
young  niece  into  society,  as  well  as  her  son's  determina- 
tion to  fit  himself  for  a  diplomatic  career,  was  the  ex- 
cuse she  gave  for  the  move.  The  luorld^  as  men  call  the 
little  circle  in  which  they  live,  speculated  on  the  change 
according  to  its  different  points  of  view. 

This  world  considered  the  niece  rather  young  to  be 
introduced  into  society,  and  wondered  seriously  that 
Curt  should  adopt  a  diplomatic  career  in  preference  to 
the  lighter  duties  of  heir  to  a  large  property.  Some 
saw  a  clever  stroke  on  the  part  of  the  mother  to  avoid 
relinquishing  the  authority  she  enjoyed  so  thoroughly, 
while  others  thought  that  they  discovered  on  the  part 
of  the  son  an  attempt  to  escape  from  his  mother's  influ- 
ence. The  world,  as  is  usually  the  case,  was  both  right 
and  wrong.  Under  ordinary  circumstances  the  countess 
would  have  been  the  first  to  pronounce  seventeen  en 
tirely  too  young  for  Lily  to  abandon  her  studies,  and 
would  have  kept  her  at  least  another  year  in  seclusion. 
Still  less  would  she  have  desired  to  see  her  son  give  up 
his  position  as  landed  proprietor  to  enter  politics.  She, 
however,  saw  herself  obliged  to  abandon  her  first  prin- 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  133 

ciples,  for  she  was  determined  not  to  allow  her  son's  in- 
fatuation to  continue,  notwithstanding  the  magnificent 
settlements  promised  by  the  director.  She  vowed  to 
leave  nothing  undone  to  prevent  the  marriage  of  her 
son  with  the  circus  director's  daughter. 

The  countess  realized  that  the  quiet  of  a  country  life 
was  not  conducive  to  wean  Curt's  thoughts  from  his  love, 
particularly  as  Lily  was  so  little  calculated  to  interest 
him.  Abandoning  all  ideas  in  that  direction,  therefore, 
she  put  her  hopes  in  the  influence  of  an  active  and  am- 
bitious life  and  intercourse  with  society.  Attributing 
Curt's  fancy  to  his  little  knowledge  of  the  world,  she 
promised  herself  that  mingling  with  it  would  be  his  cure  ; 
hence  she  proposed  a  diplomatic  career  as  necessitating 
a  residence  in  cities  ;  and  in  order  to  keep  him  under 
her  immediate  supervision,  she  decided  to  introduce  Lily. 

To  Curt  it  was  not  disagreeable  to  enter  a  career 
which  does  not  require  too  close  attention,  while  it 
gives  a  young  man  of  means  such  good  opportunities 
to  extend  his  circle  of  acquaintance.  The  one  subject 
which  separated  him  from  sympathy  with  his  mother 
made  it  irksome  to  be  alone  with  her,  and  the  narrow- 
ness of  a  small  neighborhood  was  tiresome.  Ail  things 
contributed  to  make  him  wish  to  begin  a  life  of  more 
intellectual  activity. 

The  countess's  salon  soon  held  an  enviable  place  in 
society.  The  glamour  of  the  apparent  coming  union  of 
the  heir  to  an  ancient  name  with  a  young  heiress  was 
not  wanting  to  increase  the  attraction,  for  it  was  cur- 
rently believed  that  nothing  would   please  the  countess 


134  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

more  than  the  marriage  of  Curt  and  Lily.  This  was  al4 
settled  by  the  fertile  brains  of  enterprising  gossips,  for 
neither  of  the  young  people  gave  the  slightest  excuse 
for  linking  their  names  together.  Curt  was  perfectly 
indifferent  to  his  young  cousin,  and  was  as  retiring  in 
his  mother's  drawing-room  as  good  manners  would 
allow  in  the  host.  He  seemed  completely  wrapped  up 
in  his  studies,  and  the  female  world  had  so  little  interest 
for  him,  that  not  one  of  the  belles  could  boast  of  an 
unusual  attention. 

The  countess  was  no  doubt  disappointed  by  the  want 
of  success  in  her  well-laid  plans.  At  the  close  of  the 
carnival  she  gave  a  ball.  Curt  assisted  his  mother  in 
doing  the  honors  with  a  grace  which  was  natural  to  him, 
but  with  that  indifference  that  comes  from  a  want  of 
natural  love  of  society  in  itself  and  a  pre-engaged  mind. 

"  What  a  charming  fellow  your  son  is  !"  said  an  old 
gentleman,  who  was  held  as  an  authority  in  the  best 
circles,  to  the  countess — "  well  bred,  handsome,  and 
clever — quite  the  pride  of  anj'^  mother's  heart." 

The  countess  gracefully  acknowledged  the  tribute, 
while  at  the  same  time  a  shadow  passed  over  her  coun- 
tenance, giving  the  impression  that  there  still  remained 
something  to  desire. 

The  look  was  noticed  by  the  old  cavalier,  who  never 
lost  an  opportunity  to  learn  something  of  other  people's 
secrets.  "I  have  admired  him,"  he  continued,  "and 
have  seldom  seen  a  young  man  of  such  strict  principles. 
Indeed,  he  has  entered  so  little  into  the  pleasures  of  our 
city,  that  it  makes  one  a  little  anxious  for  the  future. 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  135 

You  know,  dear  lady,  we  must  all  sow  our  wild  oats, 
sooner  or  later." 

"  If  that  be  so  absolutely  necessary,  my  son  will  cer- 
tainly pay  the  penalty,"  she  answered,  with  so  much 
bitterness  that  one  might  be  tempted  to  believe  that  she 
had  had  a  sad  experience. 

The  old  gentleman's  curiosity  was  still  more  excited. 
What  could  she  have  to  complain  of  in  her  son,  of  whom 
even  the  most  malignant  had  nothing  evil  to  say  ?  Could 
it  be  that  he  was  not  quite  submissive  to  mamma  with 
regard  to  little  gold-bird  yonder?  He  looked  at  Curt, 
and  thought  that  he  was  indeed  very  cold-blooded  to  his 
cousin,  who  was  just  then  trying  to  converse  with  him. 
After  a  few  moments'  pause  the  attack  was  renewed. 
"  We  shall  soon  have  to  part  with  your  son,  according 
to  a  secret  confided  to  me.  Our  young  ladies  will  be 
inconsolable  when  he  leaves  without  allowing  one  to 
claim  his  attention." 

"  He  is  yet  very  young,"  answered  the  hostess.  "  But 
since  you  are  in  the  secret,  pray  tell  me  where  is  it  pro- 
posed to  send  my  son." 

"  Diplomatic  secrets,"  murmured  his  Excellency. 
"  Furthermore,  I  should  hate  to  destroy  the  pleasure  of 
the  evening  for  my  fair  hostess  ;  mammas  do  not  love 
long  partings." 

"  Pray,  tell  me,  if  you  know.  They  will  not  send 
him  northward  ?"  persisted  the  countess  with  visible 
emotion. 

"  Quite  in  the  opposite  direction,  dear  lady  ;  to  no 
less  a  personage  than  his  Turkish   Majesty  is  he  to  be 


136  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

our  representative.  But  every  one  knows  how  woman's 
influence  may  alter  decisions,"  he  added  in  a  whisper. 
"  Our  attaches  are  not  of  such  importance  that  the  State 
depends  upon  them." 

"  There  is  no  good  reason  why  Curt  should  not  go  to 
Turkey,"  said  his  mother.  "We  mothers  cannot  ex- 
pect to  tie  our  sons  to  our  apron-strings.      Baron  X , 

the  ambassador  to  Turkey,  is  an  old  friend  of  our  fam- 
ily. But,  your  Excellency,  you  are  a  dangerous  man  ; 
you  know  all  the  State  secrets,"  she  added,  with  a  sigh 
of  relief. 

The  old  diplomat  smiled,  for  he  was  one  of  those  who 
liked  to  have  it  thought  that  they  still  wield  some  influ- 
ence in  spite  of  advancing  years.  As  the  countess  rose 
to  greet  a  new  arrival  he  looked  after  her  and  mut- 
tered, "  A  true  Semiramis  !  I  would  give  a  good  deal 
to  know  why  she  wants  to  send  her  oldest  son  away.  It 
would  seem  as  if  he  were  growing  up  too  quickly.  Oh, 
woman,  woman  !  I  shall  see  what  there  is  to  the  timid 
little  maid." 

By  the  "  timid  little  maid"  he  meant  Lily,  who  stood 
near,  looking  rosy,  embarrassed,  and  dull.  She  was  a 
favorite  with  elderly  men,  while  to  the  younger  ones 
she  was  tiresome.  Her  reputed  fortune  and  the  advice 
of  prudent  mothers  brought  her  some  admirers,  how- 
ever, who  remained  indifferent  by  her  side,  and  for 
whom  she  had  blushes  and  smiles  alike.  Close  observers 
might  have  remarked  that  her  eyes  generally  followed 
her  handsome  cousin,  who  seemed  entirely  unconscious 
of  the  attention.     Generally  he  avoided  her,  and  on  this 


THE    CIRCUS  RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  137 

occasion  abruptly  left  her  in  order  to  greet  his  friend 
Dahnow,  who  had  taken  a  trip  to  the  city  and  received 
a  most  pressing  invitation  from  the  countess  to  the  ball. 

"  You  are  not  very  civil  to  your  cousin,"  said  our  old 
friend,  as  he  found  himself  dragged  unceremoniously 
into  an  adjoining  room.      "  You  were  dancing  with  her." 

"  Oh,  relatives  need  not  be  ceremonious,  and  that 
grand  chain  is  very  tiresome.  Why  did  you  delay  com- 
ing until  the  very  end  of  the  carnival  ?" 

"  I  merely  wanted  a  little  trip  before  beginning  the 
task  of  preparing  for  my  examination.  Your  little 
cousin  may  yet  be  quite  pretty  when  she  has  grown  ; 
she  has  a  pretty  expression  about  the  mouth." 

"  Has  she  ?  It  is  possible  ;  but  I  do  not  admire  her 
style  of  beauty." 

"  But  she  admires  you.  Her  look  when  you  left  her 
so  abruptly  quite  cut  me  to  the  heart." 

"  They  have  filled  her  head  with  stupid  ideas  that  it 
is  hard  for  her  now  to  rid  herself  of.  Dahnow,  I  bear 
about  me  a  talisman.  I  did  not  write  to  you  about  it  ; 
but  look  here."  With  these  words  Curt  drew  forth  a 
medallion  bearing  the  loveliest  female  head. 

"  Oh,  how  beautiful  !"  exclaimed  Dahnow.  "  You 
were  so  uncommunicative  and  left  so  precipitately,  I 
thought  that  affair  was  all  over.  You  think,  then,  that 
you  will  succeed  ?" 

"  I  have  succeeded.  There  are,  of  course,  some  con- 
ditions. My  mother  insists  on  a  two  years'  secret  en- 
gagement.     Have  they  got  wind  of  it  on  the  Rhine  ?" 

"  Not  much  ;    they    thought   your  mother   had    pru- 


138  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

dently  recalled  you  home,  and  as  the  director  and  his 
family  left  soon  after,  the  affair  was  quickly  forgotten. 
You  know  student  love  is  proverbially  fleeting." 

''Nous  verrons,'"  said  Curt,  stroking  his  beard  and 
gazing  on  the  medallion. 

Dahnow  looked  serious.  "  Do  you  know — "  he  be- 
gan, and  stopped  suddenly.  Then  in  an  altered  tone 
he  asked,  "  Where  is  she  ?" 

"  At  a  villa  near  D ,  which  her  father  has  recently 

bought,"  answered  Curt.  "  She  will  reside  there  for 
two  years.  I  could  not  endure  to  have  her  with  the 
circus,  and  made  this  request." 

"What  are  your  plans  in  the  mean  time?  I  know 
that  you  have  devoted  yourself  to  diplomacy.  Do  you 
remain  here  for  the  present  ?" 

"  My  preparatory  studies  are  completed  ;  I  shall  soon 
be  assigned  to  some  embassy,  and  am  in  daily  expecta- 
tion of  some  news." 

"  Indeed,"  said  Dahnow  rather  relieved.  "  See,  my 
friend,  one  of  the  servants  seems  waiting  for  you  ;  you 
had  better  inquire  what  he  wants." 

"  Oh,"  said  Degenthal,  looking  at  the  waiter  who 
stood  in  the  doorway,  "  it  is  supper-time.  Old  fellow, 
I  shall  see  that  a  cosey  place  is  reserved  for  you.  As 
host  I  must  devote  myself  to  the  stars  of  the  first  mag- 
nitude, but  I  shall  join  you  as  soon  as  possible.  Take 
my  little  cousin  in,  as  you  are  a  stranger  to  the  others." 

"  Do  not  trouble  yourself  about  me  ;  I  shall  take  care 
of  myself,"  muttered  Dahnow,  and  it  was  very  apparent 
that  he  knew  how  to  do  so,  for  a  few  minutes  later  he 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  139 

was  by  the  side  of  the  belle  of  the  season  in  the  midst 
of  the  brightest  group  in  the  room,  where  his  natural 
wit  added  much  to  the  general  enjoyment. 

"  Oh,  Count  Degenthal  !"  cried  out  the  beauty,  cast- 
ing her  brilliant  eyes  on  Curt — something,  by  the  way, 
she  had  done  all  winter,  hoping  to  bring  him  to  her 
chariot  wheels — "  Count  Degenthal,  tell  us  what  brings 
your  North  German  friend  to  our  city  just  now  when 
we  are  about  to  forswear  all  vanity  and  cover  our  heads 
with  ashes." 

"  Simply  because  I  am  a  heretic,  gentle  lady,  who 
knows  nothing  of  pious  practices.  I  am  now  very  peni- 
tent, for  I  have  discovered  what  I  have  lost.  Will  you, 
in  your  charity,  give  me  a  dance  ?" 

"  Flatterer  !"  said  Degenthal  smiling.  "  Countess 
Hedwig,  punish  him  with  several  dances.  I  know  he 
believes  in  the  Turkish  doctrine  that  prefers  to  look  at 
dancing  rather  than  work  at  it." 

"  I  know  what  has  brought  Baron  Dahnow,"  said  one 
of  the  young  men.  "  His  town  sends  us  one  of  the 
most  renowned  directors  of  the  art  where  there  is  more 
jumping  than  dancing.  Do  you  know,  ladies  and  gen- 
tlemen, that'  the  renowned  Karsten  and  his  circus  are 
coming  to  help  us  to  endure  Lent  ?" 

All  eyes  being  turned  on  Dahnow,  no  one  noticed 
how  Degenthal  shuddered. 

"  Baron  Dahnow,  you  are  actually  blushing,"  cried 
out  the  Countess  Hedwig.  "So  these  four  footed 
beauties  are  your  guiding  star  ?" 

Dahnow  laughed  a  forced  laugh   and  said,  "  Friend 


140  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

Curt,  you  seem  not  to  have  much  of  an  opinion  of  your 
city  since  you  are  at  a  loss  to  account  for  one's  visiting 
it.  Karslen  was  not  with  us  this  winter.  He  went 
farther  north." 

"  So  3^ou  follow  him  here,"  called  out  one  of  the  com- 
pany. "  Chi  lo  sa  !  Perhaps  the  four-footed  beauties 
are  not  the  attraction.  You  know  they  say  Karsten  has 
a  pretty  daughter.  Last  winter  she  was  all  the  rage  on 
the  Rhine.      I  hope  she  will  appear." 

"  Nora  Karsten  does  not  perform,"  said  Lily  in  her 
mild  voice.  "  She  has  never  appeared  in  public,  and 
never  will." 

Every  one  looked  astonished  at  the  little  speaker. 

"What  do  you  know  of  her?"  asked  the  Countess 
Hedwig. 

"  I  know  her  well  and  love  her,"  answered  Lily.  "  I 
was  \\\\.\\  her  nearly  a  year  at  the  convent  where  she 
was  educated.  She  was  the  prettiest  and  sweetest  of 
all  the  scholars,  and  particularly  good  to  the  new- 
comers." 

"  That  is  rather  a  novelty — a  circus-rider  coming 
from  a  convent." 

"  She  is  not  a  circus-rider,"  persisted  Lily.  "  Her 
mother  would  not  allow  her  to  be  one,  and  so  her  father, 
who  is  very  rich,  placed  her  in  the  convent.  We  did 
not  know  that  her  father  was  a  circus  director.  I  found 
it  out  later  from  our  chaplain,  who  knew  her." 

"  What  is  she  like,  and  where  does  she  live  ?"  in- 
quired the  Countess  Hedwig. 

"  She  is  prettier  than  any  one  I   know,"  replied  Lily 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  I4I 

vindictively.  "  I  do  not  know  where  she  lives,  but  I 
suppose  she  is  with  her  father.  One  thing  I  do  know, 
she  could  never  do  anything  wrong  ;  she  is  too  good 
and  too  well  bred." 

The  little  defender  was  flushed  with  zeal.  For  the 
first  time  a  certain  pair  of  eyes  rested  on  her  with  in- 
terest. Degenthal  seemed  to  hang  on  every  word  she 
uttered.  For  the  first  time  he  noticed  the  "  pretty  ex- 
pression around  her  mouth"  of  which  Dahnow  had 
spoken.  A  little  while  later  he  stood  behind  her  chair 
asking,  "  Cousin,  are  you  engaged  for  the  cotillion  ? 
May  I  have  the  pleasure  ?"  Lily  blushed,  her  delighted 
surprise  allowing  her  merely  to  bow  ;  this  surpassed 
her  wildest  dreams. 

As  the  famous  "  Sir  Roger  de  Coverley"  was  closing 
the  evening's  festivities,  the  countess  doubted  her  own 
sight  when  she  saw  her  son  and  niece  vis-a-vis.  There 
are  moments  when  the  dullest  eye  will  sparkle,  and  now 
Lily's  seemed  two  seas  of  light  as  Curt  gave  her  his  un- 
divided attention.  The  countess  had  not  heard  the 
school  reminiscences  which  had  wrought  the  change, 
and  could  not  believe  her  senses.  Had  she  heretofore 
been  blind  ?  Had  the  intimacy  of  domestic  life  pre- 
vented her  seeing  how  things  had  been  maturing  ?  Had 
she  been  too  hasty  in  seeking  diversion  for  his  thoughts  ? 
What  was  she  to  do  now  ?  These  were  questions  which 
the  countess  asked  herself,  and  in  her  uncertainty  she 
sought  the  old  diplomat,  and  with  one  of  her  most 
gracious  smiles  asked,  "  May  I  take  advantage  of  my 
sex's  privilege  to  be  fickle  ?" 


142  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER   S    DAUGHTER. 

"  It  would  only  make  you  appear  more  like  the  rest 
of  us  poor  mortals,"  answered  the  old  gallant. 

"  Constantinople  is  so  far  ;  the  climate  makes  me  un- 
easy. Can  you  not,  you  all-powerful  man,  use  your 
influence  and  get  certain  appointments  changed  ?" 

I  am  always  at  the  service  of  the  ladies,"  replied  his 
Excellency,  with  one  of  his  most  profound  bows.  "  Bar- 
on X can  choose  another  of  our  young  gentlemen." 

At  times  the  same  train  of  thought  seems  to  run 
through  various  minds.  At  the  moment  that  the  diplo- 
mat uttered  the  last  words  Curt  was  lost  in  contending 
considerations.  As  long  as  Lily  continued  the  allusions 
to  her  school  life  she  interested  him,  but  now  the  fact 
of  Karsten's  expected  arrival  troubled  him,  and  for  the 
first  time  his  mother's  worldly  wisdom  received  his 
blessing.  His  thoughts  also  flew  to  his  mother's  old 
friend,  who,  he  hoped,  could  hasten  his  departure,  for 
he  shrank  from  meeting  the  director  under  existing  cir- 
cumstances, and  he  determined  to  lose  no  time  in  mak- 
ing inquiries  concerning  the  probable  day  of  the  arrival 
of  the  circus. 

Early  on  the  morning  after  the  ball  he  rode  out  to  the 
place  where  circuses  were  always  held,  and  found  labor- 
ers at  work  preparing  for  the  expected  exhibition. 
There  he  met  the  dark-visaged  man  whose  acquaintance 
he  had  made  in  the  rooms  of  the  director  in  Brussels. 
He  seemed  to  be  a  kind  of  manager,  and  welcomed  the 
young  man,  whom  he  immediately  recognized,  and 
whose  connection  with  his  chief  caused  him  so  much 
curiosity. 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  I43 

Curt  was  very  unfavorably  impressed  with  this  man, 
who  answered  his  inquiries  by  stating  that  Director 
Karsten  had  come  on  with  the  advance  guard  of  the 
troupe,  and  was  then  lying  quite  ill  at  the  most  promi- 
nent hotel,  where  he  proposed  to  accompany  Curt,  and 
was  evidently  much  displeased  with  the  coolness  with 
which  his  services  were  declined. 

As  Curt  remounted  his  horse  contending  emotions 
warred  in  his  bosom.  Not  to  go  see  the  man  to  whom 
he  hoped  to  be  so  nearly  related,  and  whose  hospitality 
he  had  so  often  enjoyed,  he  must  acknowledge  would 
be  despicable.  Lily's  talk  of  Nora  had  awakened 
in  his  heart  a  longing  to  see  her,  or  at  least  to 
hear  something  of  her.  He  determined  to  go  im- 
mediately to  the  hotel,  but  did  not  notice  that  he 
was  followed  by  the  dark,  Jewish-appearing  individ- 
ual. 

Arrived  at  his  destination,  he  inquired  for  Karsten, 
and  while  waiting  to  be  announced  entered  a  room  at 
the  window  of  which  he  remarked  a  woman  standing. 
Believing  it  to  be  Madame  Karsten,  he  advanced.  The 
lady  turned  around,  and  with  the  exclamation,  "  Curt  !" 
two  loving  arms  encircled  him,  and  a  loving  head  was 
pressed  to  his  heart. 

In  his  response  of  "  Nora  !  Nora!  you  here!"  there 
sounded  more  astonishment  and  annoyance  than  pleas- 
ure or  affection. 

His  kiss  must,  indeed,  have  been  cold,  for  she  raised 
her  head  and  said,  with  bewilderment,  "  Are  you  not 
glad  to  see  me  ?     This  is  no  breach  of  our  promise,  for 


144  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

it  is  the  result  of  accident  ;  but  I  bless  the  Fates  with  all 
my  heart." 

"  Oh,  wh)'  are  you  here  ?"  he  asked  excitedly.  "  You 
know  how  I  hate  to  see  you  with  the  troupe,  and  how 
I  implored  you  to  remain  at  the  villa." 

The  poor  girl  appeared  paralyzed  by  this  reproach, 
and  sobbed,  "  My  father  was  taken  suddenly  ill  and 
telegraphed  for  us." 

"Was  it  not  sufificient  for  his  wife  to  come?"  he 
asked,  with  increasing  excitement. 

"  Oh,  Curt,  you  surely  do  not  know  what  you  are 
saying,"  she  replied  in  broken-hearted  tones.  "  Is  it 
so  disagreeable  to  you  to  see  me  ?" 

"  Not  disagreeable,"  he  answered,  somewhat  soft- 
ened by  the  sad  voice  ;  "  but  I  must  say  that  it  is  in- 
expressibly imprudent  for  you  to  come  here  to  our 
home,  where  it  would  be  so  undesirable  to  have  your 
name  connected  with  such  surroundings.  You  know 
how  important  my  mother  holds  the  conditions  of  our 
marriage  ;  how  can  I  observe  them  when  I  know  you  to 
be  so  near  ?" 

"  I  will  go  away,"  she  said  gently. 

"  I  myself  am  going  on  a  long  journe}^,"  replied  Curt, 
"  and  so  far  it  is  fortunate  that  I  have  an  opportunity 
of  telling  you  that  I  shall  be  absent." 

"You  are  going  away?  Oh,  Curt,  do  not  be  so 
coldly  prudent,"  she  said,  as  her  blue  eyes  looked  on 
him  with  astonishment. 

"  It  is  better  ;  it  is  necessary,"  he  replied,  with  that 
determination  which  verv  vounof  men  love  to  exhibit  to 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  145 

the  women  they  love,  perhaps  with  an  idea  of  impress- 
ing them  with  their  superiority.  "It  is  better  that  I 
should  be  far  away  during  the  two  years  of  our  trial. 
In  a  few  days  I  am  to  go  as  attache  to  our  minister  at 
Constantinople.  It  was  a  wise  move  of  my  mother's, 
as  I  see  clearer  and  clearer  every  day." 

Nora  remained  silent,  as  if  striving  to  understand  the 
meaning  of  his  words  ;  then,  once  more  throwing  her 
arms  around  him,  she  cried,  "  Curt,  you  wish  that  we 
should  be  separated  ;  3-ou  wish  to  break  our  engage- 
ment !  It  is  not  sufficient  that  we  should  be  separated  ; 
you  also  wish  to  put  distance  between  us." 

Curt  drew  her  more  closely  to  him,  and  pressing  his 
lips  to  her  forehead,  said,  "  True  love  knows  no  dis- 
tance." 

'^Yes,  yes,  it  does  know  distance.  As  long  as  we 
breathe  the  same  native  air  there  is  a  subtle  sympathy, 
and  like  customs  unite  us  in  a  strong  bond.  Foreign 
lands  and  foreign  people  are  so  many  obstacles  between 
us.  Curt,  even  the  trees  take  on  a  different  foliage  in 
foreign  lands,  and  the  heart  is  clothed  in  different 
feelings.  It  was  for  this  that  your  absence  was  plan- 
ned." 

"  It  was  with  my  own  free  will,"  he  said,  stung  by 
the  implied  doubt  of  his  independence.  "  I  weighed 
all  the  circumstances,  and  decided  that  the  adopting  of 
this  career  would  be  conducive  to  our  future  happiness. 
Have  you  such  misgivings  of  your  love  ?" 

"  Of  my  love  ?  Oh,  no  ;  for  us  women  love  is  the 
motive  of  our  life  ;  for  men  it  is  but  an  accident.     Tell 


146  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

your  mother  we  shall   carry  out  her  conditions   to  the 
letter  ;  but,  oh,  do  not  go  away  !" 

He  bent  over  her,  stroked-  back  the  dark  hair  from 
her  temples,  and  kissed  the  trembling  lids,  swollen  by 
the  rising  tears,  saying,  "  Do  not  be  childish,  my  Nora. 
What  are  a  few  miles  more  or  less  ?  Will  the  East  rob 
your  slave  of  memory  ?" 

She  was  about  to  reply,  when  Curt  suddenly  stood  up. 
Following  his  eyes,  she  saw  the  dark  man  of  the  circus 
standing  at  the  door  with  a  satirical  smile  upon  his  lips. 
"  The  director  wishes  to  see  Miss  Nora  immediately," 
he  said  and  disappeared. 

Curt  bit  his  lips  and  asked,  "  Who  is  this  forbidding- 
looking  man  with  the  unmistakable  countenance  of  a 
spy  ?     Oh,  I  know  how  imprudent  your  coming  was  !" 

"  That  is  Landolfo,  my  father's  principal.  He  is  .dis- 
agreeable to  me  because  he  assumes  so  much.  My 
father  considers  his  services  invaluable,  and  under  the 
circumstances  we  cannot  always  be  too  critical." 

"  /F«?.'"  cried  Curt  impatiently.  "  Oh,  Nora,  do  not 
thus  identify  yourself  with  this  horrid  business." 

"  Curt,"  she  answered,  "  you  are  determined  to  mis- 
understand everything  to-day.  You  certainly  know 
what  I  mean."  She  did  not  approach  him,  but  drew 
her  pretty  head  up  rather  haughtily,  saying,  "  I  must 
go  to  my  father.  Do  you  wish  to  see  him  ?  He  has 
been  very  ill,  and  it  was  only  yesterday  that  he  began 
to  improve." 

"  It  is  better  that  I  should  not  see  him  just  now,"  said 
Curt  ;  "  I  do  not  feel  in  a  proper  mood,  and  besides  I 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  147 

might  again  meet  that  man,  who  is  so  antagonistic.  I 
shall  return  in  the  course  of  the  day.  It  is  not  our 
fault  that  accident  has  brought  us  together.  I  shall  be 
able  to  give  you  further  particulars  with  regard  to  my 
appointment.     My  compliments  to  your  father." 

He  was  about  to  embrace  her,  but  with  a  quiet  dig- 
nity she  drew  away,  and  her  hand  barely  touched  his  as 
she  left  the  room. 

Curt  left  the  hotel  displeased  with  himself,  with  Nora, 
and  with  everything.  The  consciousness  that  a  third 
person  was  now  in  their  secret,  together  with  the 
wounded  feeling  which  Nora  could  not  hide,  added  to 
his  general  annoyance.  He  would,  perhaps,  have  felt 
even  worse  had  he  seen  the  burning  tears  that  coursed 
down  Nora's  cheeks  as  she  sat  by  her  father's  sick-bed, 
reviewing  the  scene  just  ended,  or  could  he  have  seen 
the  malicious  light  which  shone  in  Landolfo's  piercing 
eyes  as  he  watched  Curt  descend  the  stairs. 

"  Ho,  ho,  pretty  one,"  said  Landolfo  to  the  chamber- 
maid, as  he  met  her  in  the  hall,  "  what  is  the  name  of 
the  gentleman  who  has  just  called  on  the  director  ?" 

"  There  is  his  card,"  replied  the  maid  ;  "  madam  said 
I  was  not  to  tell  the  young  lady,  but  the  gentleman  was 
already  in  the  sitting-room." 

"  Indeed  !"  hissed  the  man  between  his  teeth.  "  This 
accounts  for  her  ladyship's  haughtiness.  No  one  but  a 
count  is  good  enough  to  pay  her  court.  It  would  seem 
that  he  has  some  trouble  in  reconciling  his  family  to  it." 

That  evening  the  countess  found  among  her  letters 
one  addressed  in  an  unknown  hand.     It  read  : 


148  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

"  A  true  friend  warns  you  that  your  son  had  a  ren- 
dezvous in  one  of  the  hotels  this  morning  with  Miss 
Karsten,  daughter  of  the  circus  director.  If  you  wish 
to  nip  the  intrigue  in  the  bud,  it  is  high  time  to  act. 
It  is  intended  to  entrap  him  and  to  make  the  affair  pub- 
lic. This  is  the  only  means  I  have  of  putting  you  on 
your  guard." 

This  apparent  ending  to  all  her  budding  hopes  was  a 
terrible  blow  to  the  countess.  She  now  believed  that 
the  change  in  her  son's  manner  was  merely  a  ruse  to 
blind  her.  She  was  incensed  against  him,  and  still 
more  so  with  those  whose  tool  she  believed  him  to  be, 
and  repeated  to  herself  again  and  again  that  she  could 
expect  nothing  better  from  that  class  of  people. 

Her  inborn  principles  shrank  from  an  anonymous  cor- 
respondence, but  in  this  case  it  must  be  intrigue  for 
intrigue.  She  determined  to  save  her  son  from  this  en- 
tanglement, cost  what  it  might.  Her  resolution  was  no 
sooner  taken  than  she  dispatched  a  letter  to  her  old 
friend,  the  diplomat,  smiling  as  she  thought  that  he 
would  consider  she  had  made  rapid  strides  in  the  fickle- 
ness on  which  he  had  complimented  her  yesterday.  She 
begged  him  to  leave  nothing  undone  to  hasten  her  son's 
departure,  as  each  hour's  delay  was  of  importance.  She 
assigned  no  reason  for  the  change  in  her  ideas,  but  the 
worldly-wise  old  man  was  at  no  loss  to  penetrate  the 
situation. 

"  Aha  !  the  young  fox  is  giving  tongue,"  communed 
his  Excellency,  as  his  tapered  fingers  gracefully  took  a 
pinch    of    snuff.      "  Who    would    have    suspected    him  ? 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDERS    DAUGHTER.  149 

Still  waters  run  deep,  and  his  mamma  is  anxious  to  pro- 
cure a  change  of  air  for  him.  She  is  a  clever  woman. 
Well,  we  shall  see  what  there  is  to  do." 

He  was  well  aware  that  there  was  much  in  his  power. 
Notwithstanding  the  lateness  of  the  hour  his  carriage 
was  ordered,  and  he  drove  to  the  door  of  his  most  influ- 
ential friend.  The  countess  should  have  nothing  to 
complain  of.  The  following  morning  Curt  received 
peremptory  orders  to  repair  immediately  to  Pera,  where 
he  would  find  all  necessary  instructions.  He  was  not 
surprised  by  the  order,  as  he  had  been  anticipating  it, 
and  merely  looked  on  the  apparent  hurry  as  a  circum- 
stance natural  to  the  profession.  Had  he  not  been  so 
preoccupied  he  might  have  been  a  little  hurt  that  his 
mother  took  his  coming  absence  so  indifferently.  Lily 
was  the  only  one  who  seemed  disturbed. 

There  was  no  time  for  adieus  or  explanations.  Be- 
fore the  close  of  the  short  winter  day,  and  before  he 
himself  clearly  realized  it,  Curt  was  seated  in  the  ex- 
press train,  which  took  him  each  minute  farther  and 
farther  from  Nora. 


150  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

CURT  had  now  been  a  month  in  his  new  position  ; 
its  duties  and  surroundings  gave  him  but  little 
time  to  dwell  on  the  past.  Indeed,  he  rather  enjoyed 
the  varied  interests  of  his  public  life  after  the  domestic 
anxieties  from  which  he  had  suffered.  Even  the  sin- 
cerest  love  does  not  prevent  men  from  growing  weary 
of  petty  contradictions.  Curt  had  left  home  dissatis- 
fied with  himself  and  with  Nora  ;  there  was  nothing  in 
their  last  meeting  which  gave  him  pleasure  to  remember. 

A  month  passes  quickly  when  we  find  ourselves  in  a 
whirlpool  of  new  acquaintances,  new  surroundings,  and 
new  occupations  ;  but  a  month  drags  when  we  daily 
look  for  some  desired  news  or  long  for  some  proof  of 
love.  This  truth  was  forced  upon  Curt  by  the  recep- 
tion of  a  letter  from  Dahnow,  which  awakened  him 
from  the  quiet  of  his  life. 

"  Think  what  j'ou  wish  of  my  interference,"  wrote 
his  fat  friend,  "  but  I  cannot  understand  how  you  rec- 
oncile it  to  yourself  to  make  a  young  girl  whose  true 
love  you  have  won  unhappy.  It  is  not  for  me  to  pass 
judgment  on  your  hasty  leaving,  but  I  cannot  help 
thinking  that  tliere  was  one  to  whom  you  owed  an  ex- 
planation. It  is  not  necessary  for  me  to  name  her,  who 
has  waited  patiently  for  weeks  for  a  word  of  explana- 
tion ;  you  ought  to  be  able  to  understand    the  tenrier- 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  151 

ness  of  her  feelings  better  than  I.  That  it  was  any 
comfort  for  her  to  hear  through  me  that  you  had  arrived 
safely  at  your  destination  and  were  well  is  very  ques- 
tionable. Perhaps  it  might  have  been  more  reassuring 
to  think  that  sickness  had  prevented  your  inexcusable 
(pardon  the  word)  conduct.  It  seems  to  me  that  your 
mother's  conditions  sit  very  lightly  upon  you  ;  this  is 
not  my  idea  of  love's  logic.  To-morrow  Karsten's  wife 
and  daughter  will  leave  the  city,  where  they  have  been 
detained  by  the  sickness  of  the  father.  I  shall  also 
leave  to-morrow.  If  you  care  to  write  to  me,  my  ad- 
dress will  be  my  old  Mecklenburg  home." 

The  letter  certainly  left  nothing  in  the  way  of  clear- 
ness to  be  desired.  Curt  did  not  require  any  examina- 
tion of  conscience  ;  his  guilt  stared  him  in  the  face. 
The  repulse  at  their  meeting,  the  frigid  farewell,  four 
weeks  of  silence,  which  had  seemed  to  him  so  short,  too 
—  now  all  fell  like  a  heavy  weight  upon  his  heart.  The 
words,  "  Do  not  go  away  !  Do  you  wish  to  leave  me  ?" 
rang  in  his  ears.  His  only  answer  had  been  a  hasty 
departure  without  a  word  of  explanation.  What,  he 
asked  himself,  was  the  reason  for  the  great  haste  in 
leaving  ?  It  seemed  as  though  a  veil  had  fallen  from 
before  his  eyes,  and  he  began  to  ask  what  influence  had 
brought  about  this  sudden  appointment.  He  now  re- 
membered that  it  came  on  the  very  day  of  his  meeting 
with  his  affianced  ;  he  recalled  his  mother's  look  of  re- 
lief and  her  cold  farewell  ;  he  thought  of  the  astonish- 
ment with  which  his  chief  received  him  when  he  reported 
at  the  embassy.     Now  everything  seemed  clear  to  him. 


152  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

Nora  was  right  ;  they  determined  to  separate  them,  and 
they  had  succeeded.  His  mother  had  planned  every- 
thing so  cleverly  and  carried  out  her  designs  so  effec- 
tively that  his  suspicions  had  been  completely  disarmed. 
His  love  and  his  self-esteem  were  equally  wounded. 
Did  she  believe  that  she  could  conquer  by  underhand 
means  the  will  she  could  not  break  ? 

And  Nora,  Nora,  whom  he  had  so  cruelly  neglected, 
how  she  must  have  suffered  !  His  self-accusation  even 
exaggerated  those  sufferings,  for  he  knew  nothing  of 
the  excuses  which  the  true  woman  heart  makes  for  the 
shortcomings  of  him  whom  she  loves.  Each  day's  ab- 
sence now  seemed  like  a  month.  Then  came  the  thought 
— Dahnow  had  been  her  comforter  all  the  time  ;  Dah- 
now  had  remained  with  her  ;  she  must  have  complained 
to  him,  for  his  letter  spoke  of  her  "  tenderness."  With 
jealous  torture  he  dwelt  on  the  word.  What  could  have 
kept  Dahnow  so  long  in  the  city  ?  Could  it  be  that  he 
came  there  to  meet  the  Karstens  ?  Curt  recalled  his 
embarrassment  when  joked  with  at  the  ball  ;  and  now 
he  was  going  to  leave  with  them. 

Curt  asked  himself  bitterly  if  every  one  was  conspir- 
ing against  him,  and  he  determined  that,  no  matter 
what  the  whole  world  thought,  he  would  not  be  con- 
quered, provided  Nora's  heart  remained  his.  Now, 
what  was  to  be  done  ?  He  must  give  Nora  some  proof 
that  all  attempts  to  separate  them  would  be  useless. 

Should  he  write  ?  Written  words  were  so  cold,  and  a 
letter  may  well  fail  to  reach  its  destination  when  in- 
trigue is  at  work.     One  spoken  word  would  explain  all, 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  153 

a  look  would   make  reparation.      He  stamped  his  foot 
impatiently,  thinking  of  the  distance  between  them. 

What  was  it  that  made  him  spring  from  his  seat  with 
an  expression  as  if  the  battle  were  won  ?  He  was  young 
and  in  love — two  states  which  often  matured  the  mad- 
dest resolutions.  He  was  jealous  of  his  lov^e  and  of  his 
vanity — a  twofold  fire  which  drives  many  to  rash  acts. 
Dahnow's  letter  gave  place  on  his  table  to  railroad 
guides  and  time-tables.  In  our  age  distance  hardly  ex- 
ists, and  love  and  war  know  no  laws.  Such  was  the 
logic  to  which   Dahnow  alluded. 

Next  morning  Degenthal's  servant  took  a  note  to  the 
head  of  the  embassy,  announcing  that  the  young  count 
was  ill  and  would  be  obliged  to  remain  in  bed,  as  the 
phj'sician  had  prescribed  absolute  rest. 

"  There,  there  !"  said  the  chief  as  he  read  the  note  ; 
"  we  Germans  are  so  stupid  not  to  take  precautions 
against  the  heat.  This  young  man  was  particularly 
recommended  to  my  care  ;  I  must  see  after  him." 

A  few  days  later  the  spring  sun  shone  on  the  windows 
of  a  small  castle  which  looked  out  proudly  between  the 
surrounding  villas  in  the  suburb  of  a  city  in  Central 
Germany.  The  guides  lost  no  opportunity  of  telling 
strangers  that  for  some  time  it  had  been  and  was  occu- 
pied by  a  European  celebrity,  the  circus  director,  Kar- 
sten,  who  had  given  a  large  sum  for  it  and  the  surround- 
ing park. 

The  sun's  rays,  which  were  daily  developing  the  foli- 
age of  the  stately  trees,  rested  lovingly  on  the  head  of 
a  young  girl  who  had  taken  her  seat  on  one  of  the  bal- 


154  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

conies  of  the  castle,  seeming  like  a  sweet  flower  con- 
tributing its  fresh  beauty  to  the  glorious  spring.  The 
bright  sun,  however,  found  no  reflection  in  her  blue 
eyes,  which  were  cast  down  pensively  and  were  sur- 
rounded by  dark  circles.  There  was  deep  sadness  be- 
trayed in  her  drooping  figure  and  in  the  listless  hands 
resting  in  her  lap.  The  beauties  of  the  surrounding 
landscape  and  the  pure  air  which  rose  from  the  green 
valley  had  no  power  to  distract  her.  To  her  every- 
thing seemed  enveloped  in  a  mist,  and  yet  she  thought 
of  that  spring,  only  a  year  gone  by,  when  all  seemed 
joy  and  hope.  Was  it  only  on  the  banks  of  the  Rhine 
that  the  atmosphere  she  dreamed  of  was  to  be  found, 
or  did  the  light  she  looked  for  come  from  sympathetic 
glances  rather  than  from  the  luminous  god  of  day  ' 

Nora  was  at  a  loss  to  understand  herself.  She  did 
not  like  to  acknowledge  that  she  was  hurt  by  Curt's 
silence,  and  yet  why  did  she  watch  each  post  ?  She 
did  not  wish  to  nourish  mistrust,  yet  doubt  was  knock- 
ing loudly  at  her  heart.  She  wished  to  think  of  her 
love,  and  experienced  a  burning,  restless  longing.  Two 
years'  separation  was  the  trial  exacted,  and  she  had 
accepted  it  without  a  murmur.  What  were  two  years 
compared  to  a  lifetime  of  bliss  ?  she  had  said.  Yet 
hardly  six  months  had  elapsed  since  the  edict  had  gone 
forth,  and  already  it  seemed  as  if  time  was  hollowing 
out  a  chasm  which  yawned  wider  and  wider  each  day, 
until  now  it  tlireatened  to  become  impassable.  She 
had  longed  that  some  accident  might  interfere  with  the 
cruel  edict.      Her  wish   was  granted,   the  meeting  was 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDERS    DAUGHTER.  155 

vouchsafed,  but  oh,  what  a  sting  of  disappointment  it 
left  !  Perhaps  he  was  right,  and  that  the  going  to  a 
foreign  country  would  prevent  the  possibility  of  such 
dangerous  meetings  ;  perhaps  so,  but,  oh,  she  wished 
that  he  was  not  so  coldly  prudent. 

The  balmy  spring  breezes  kissed  her  burning  cheeks, 
and,  like  the  touch  of  a  loving  hand,  brushed  back  her 
waving  hair,  but  now  it  seemed  to  her  a  mockery.  Her 
tears  and  sobs  increased,  her  head  sank  lower,  and  her 
very  heart  seemed  ready  to  break. 

Have  her  sobs  deafened  her  to  the  sound  of  wheels 
stopping  at  the  gate,  or  her  tears  blinded  her  to  the 
figure  hastening  so  rapidly  from  the  carriage  that  the 
driver,  looking  at  his  generous  fee,  laughingly  says, 
"  I'll  be  hanged  if  he  is  not  going  to  see  his  lady-love  ; 
they  are  always  liberal"  ? 

While  the  wise  driver  was  making  his  sage  remarks 
his  passenger  had  taken  a  side  path  to  the  house.  His 
tired  looks,  dishevelled  hair,  and  disordered  clothes 
told  of  a  long  night's  travel,  but  his  eye  was  clear  and 
seemed  in  search  of  something,  until  it  rested  on  the 
figure  sitting  above.  With  an  exclamation  of  joy  he 
sprang  up  the  stairs  to  the  balcony.  "  Nora  !  Nora  !" 
he  cried,  as  he  clasped  her  in  his  arms.  For  a  moment 
she  could  hardly  believe  her  eyes  ;  then  she  clung  to 
him  with  all  the  earnestness  born  of  loneliness  and  long- 
ing. The  clouds  had  cleared  away,  and  true  spring 
hope  and  joy  streamed  into  her  heart. 

Oh,  love  !  love  !  The  nun  said  thou  wert  not  of 
value    at  God's    throne,    but    the   highest   goal   of    all 


156  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

earthly  happiness,  the  sweetest  of  God's  favors  thou 
art. 

Question  and  answer  and  explanation  followed  in 
quick  succession.  Surely  she  could  not  now  accuse 
him  of  being  too  prudent.  Three  days  and  two  nights 
had  he  travelled  from  the  banks  of  the  Bosporus  to 
spend  at  most  six  hours  with  her.  How  brightly  her 
eyes  shone  !  How  she  scolded  and  praised  in  the  same 
breath  !  With  what  love  she  busied  herself  with  a  hun- 
dred womanly  cares  and  attentions  !  How  she  mocked 
at  anxiety  and  courted  hope  ! 

While  the  lovers  enjoyed  the  height  and  depth  of 
their  bliss,  and  all  their  misunderstandings  vanished 
like  dust,  they  gave  no  thought  to  him  to  whom  they 
were  indebted  for  the  magic  change.  At  length  Degen- 
thal  confessed  his  jealousy  of  Dahnow,  and  Nora  laughed 
heartily.  Oh,  yes,  she  said,  Baron  Dahnow  was  very 
kind,  but  indeed  she  did  not  know  where  he  had  gone. 

Neither  of  them  suspected  the  heroic  resolution  which 
was  the  inspiration  of  the  letter  to  Curt. 

"  Now  we  are  quits,"  Dahnow  said  to  himself  as  he 
posted  his  letter.  "  My  conscience  is  at  ease.  If  he 
does  not  return  after  reading  this  his  love  is  not  worth 
having,  but  I  cannot  bear  the  sight  of  those  sad  eyes. 
I  interfered  once  before,  I  am  interfering  once  again  ; 
now  it  is  for  the  last  time." 

However,  after  our  good  Mecklenburger  had  sent  his 
letter  and  eased  his  conscience  he  was  more  thoughtful 
than  ever.  "  I  must  try  travelling,"  he  said  to  himself. 
"  I  wonder  whv  it  is  that  the  fewer  connections  one  has 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  157 

the  freer  one  feels.  I  believe  all  this  studying  is  mak- 
ing me  cynical." 

A  short  time  after  this  self-communing,  Baron  Dah- 
now  astonished  his  relatives  by  announcing  to  them 
that  he  was  about  to  pursue  his  studies  from  human 
rather  than  printed  books. 

"  What,  Fatty,"  said  one  of  his  brothers  to  him,  "  you 
propose  becoming  a  traveller,  perhaps  an  African  ex- 
plorer ?" 

"  No,  no,"  he  replied  ;  "I  prefer  eating  to  being 
eaten.  However,  I  shall  go  outside  the  range  of  rail- 
roads and  hotels." 

You,  the  laziest  soul  on  the  face  of  the  earth,  pro- 
pose to  travel  in  the  wilderness,  and  perchance  climb 
the  Himalayas  ?" 

"  No  ;  I  shall  be  borne  up,"  said  Dahnow  laconically. 
"  I  shall  always  take  my  comfort." 

Curt  returned  to  his  post.      Baron  X ,  ambassador 

to  his  Turkish  Majesty,  was  in  his  private  room  at  Pera 
when  his  young  attache  announced  himself  as  recov- 
ered, and  thanked  his  Excellency  for  his  kind  inquiries 
after  his  health. 

"  Are  you  quite  recovered  ?"  asked  the  ambassador, 
looking  at  him  with  a  very  peculiar  expression. 

"  Oh,  quite  well,  quite  well,  sir,"  replied  the  young 
man,  with  a  beaming  countenance. 

"  It  seems  to  me  that  you  look  tired,"  continued  the 
other  very  dryly.  "  Your  servant  is  a  strict  watcher  ; 
it  was  impossible  to  see  you,  although  I  called  so  often. 
The  doctor,  too,  was  very  discreet." 


158  THE    CIRCUS  rider's    DAUGHTER^ 

"  The  doctor  !"  blurted  out  Curt. 

His  Excellency  stood  up,  laid  his  hand  on  Curt's 
shoulder,  and  said  sarcastically,  "  You  are  yet  but  a 
poor  diplomat,  my  dear  ;  your  little  plan  is  but  a  poorly 
spun  web.  Your  features  betray  j'ou.  To  which  of 
the  health  resorts  does  the  Trieste  Railroad  lead  ?" 

Curt  looked  embarrassed,  and  after  a  few  turns  up 
and  down  the  room  his  superior  said  to  him  kindly, 
"  Young  man,  do  not  sully  your  youth  by  unworthy 
connections." 

Curt  looked  up  bravely  and  said,  "  Your  Excellency, 
it  was  a  question  of  the  happiness  of  one  whom  I  respect 
as  much  as  I  love." 

Baron   X looked   at  him   earnestly  and  said,  "  I 

believe  you.  It  was  reported  to  me  that  you  were  in 
very  great  danger  of  wrecking  your  life's  happiness. 
Your  countenance  reassures  me  that  it  is  nothing  un- 
worthy of  you  ;  but  be  careful  of  what  you  consider 
life's  happiness." 


THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER.  159 


CHAPTER  Xril. 

ALTHOUGH  the  skies  were  continually  clouded  and 
darkened  with  threatening  rain,  and  although 
great  misfortune  hung  over  her,  Nora  was  now  happy, 
Curt's  visit  having  chased  away  all  forebodings  and  de- 
spondency. The  threatened  misfortune,  however,  left 
its  marks  on  her  father,  whose  manner  and  disposition 
had  changed  most  perceptibly  since  his  illness.  There 
was  a  restlessness  and  irritability  which  had  never  been 
known  in  him.  Even  the  joy  at  the  birth  of  a  son, 
which  took  place  shortly  after  their  return  home,  was 
of  short  duration,  although  the  expectation  of  the  event 
had  given  him  such  happy  anticipation. 

Nora  had  welcomed  her  little  brother  with  a  particu- 
lar warmth,  as  she  hoped  that  he  would  fill  the  place 
which  future  connections  would  force  her  to  leave 
vacant.  Her  father's  ill-humor  she  attributed  to  physi- 
cal causes,  and  begged  him  to  take  more  rest.  He 
grew  daily  more  and  more  restless,  making  frequent 
visits  to  the  troupe,  and  on  his  return  home  was  always 
accompanied  by  Landolfo,  who  had  become  unbearable 
to  her,  but  with  whom  her  father  seemed  to  hold  much 
secret  consultation. 

"  Signor  Landolfo,"  as  he  loved  to  call  himself,  and 
as  he  was  announced  in  large  letters  on  the  bills,  was 
evidently  a  telling  card.     The  smooth  face,  the  clear- 


t6o  the  circus-rider's  daughter. 

cut  profile,  and  the  flowing  locks  never  failed  to  please 
the  public.  A  close  observer  might  shrink  from  the 
bold,  cunning  expression  of  the  black  eyes  and  the 
voluptuous  upper  lip,  which  the  perfectly  trimmed  mus- 
tache failed  to  conceal.  His  high-sounding  name  had 
probably  evolved  from  the  more  modest  "  Levi."  One 
might  borrow  Schiller's  poetic  figure  to  describe  him, 

"  One  hardly  knew  whence  he  came, 
When  he  left  scarce  remained  a  name." 

He  had  tempted  fortune  in  the  drama,  in  poetry,  in  art. 
Once,  completely  out  of  funds,  he  joined  an  obscure 
circus  company,  where  his  striking  appearance  and  cool 
assumption  won  him  a  certain  popularity,  and  thus  he 
came  to  the  notice  of  Karsten.  His  equestrian  talent 
was  of  the  poorest,  but  Karsten  soon  recognized  his 
quickness  in  seizing  effect  and  producing  good  theatri- 
cal situations,  and  he  was  not  the  man  to  lose  the  ground 
he  once  won.  With  that  adaptability  which  seems  to 
be  a  Jewish  inheritance,  Landolfo  knew  how  to  humor 
his  employer,  so  that  he  gradually  became  the  chief 
manager  of  the  business.  The  director,  never  liking 
the  minutiae  of  his  business,  was  only  too  glad  to  find 
one  of  quick  perceptions  and  active  habits  to  relieve 
him  of  them. 

Of  late  several  business  entanglements  had  occurred. 
For  many  years  Karsten  was  the  acknowledged  head  of 
his  particular  calling.  He  had  reaped  rich  returns,  so 
that  he  could  well  afford  to  indulge  his  luxurious  tastes. 
During  the  winter  a  rival  appeared,  who  left  nothing  un- 


THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER.  l6l 

done  to  surpass  Karsten  in  the  introduction  of  novelties 
which  appealed  to  the  exhibition-loving  public. 

Novelty  always  draws,  and  it  was  not  long  before 
Karsten  began  to  notice  the  falling  off  of  his  audiences 
and  the  consequent  diminution  in  the  returns.  Some 
of  his  best  performers  were  tempted  by  large  salaries  to 
join  the  rival  company,  which  wounded  his  professional 
pride,  and  he  determined  to  spare  no  expense  in  pro- 
curing material  to  regain  his  lost  ground.  This  natu- 
rally cost  large  sums,  and,  coming  suddenly,  was  like  the 
shock  of  an  avalanche.  He  could  not  make  any  per- 
ceptible changes  in  his  domestic  expenses  without  in- 
juring his  credit,  and  he  felt  seriously  crippled  by  the 
necessary  paj^ments  on  the  castle,  bought  when  he  con- 
sidered himself  a  very  rich  man. 

All  these  anxieties  weighed  heavily  upon  him  during 
the  winter,  and  paved  the  way  for  his  sickness.  In  ad- 
dition to  the  trouble  of  competition  in  his  own  business 
was  added  the  bad  investments  of  the  banker  on  whom 
he  had  always  drawn  for  large  sums. 

On  his  present  return  to  the  villa  he  seemed  tired, 
and  in  order  to  conceal  his  own  uneasiness  he  sent 
Landolfo  to  the  city  to  make  inquiries  into  the  affairs 
of  this  banker.  The  sight  of  his  new-born  boy  seemed 
to  afford  him  great  happiness,  but  the  presence  of  Nora 
cast  a  cloud  over  his  brow,  for  he  could  not  forget  that 
the  settlements  he  engaged  to  make  on  her  marriage 
would  be  difficult  to  meet. 

One  evening  he  was  in  the  drawing-room,  surrounded 
by  his   family,  when    Landolfo   entered.       The   director 


l62  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

rose  hastily  to  meet  him,  whom  he  began  to  look  on  as 
his  only  friend.  He  gradually  began  to  receive  Landolfo 
as  an  equal,  and  on  this  particular  evening  his  reception 
was  even  more  cordial  than  ever.  Madame  Karsten  and 
the  manager  were  quite  congenial.  He  belonged  to 
her  own  class,  and  her  pretty  face  pleased  him.  She 
treated  him  with  marked  amiability,  as  if  to  compensate 
for  the  coldness  of  Nora,  to  whom  the  man  was  un- 
speakably disagreeable,  particularly  since  his  meeting 
with  Curt  in  the  city. 

The  director  begged  him  to  take  a  seat  and  join  the 
family  circle,  whereupon  Nora  rose  and  left  the  room, 
at  which  Landolfo  frowned  and  viciously  bit  his  lips. 
He  was  aware  that  she  was  the  unacknowledged  ob- 
stacle between  him  and  his  employer,  and  she  had 
wounded  his  vanity. 

Landolfo  was  not  one  to  be  indifferent  to  such  beauty 
as  Nora's,  and  his  growing  intimacy  with  the  director 
filled  him  with  the  boldest  aspirations.  It  occurred  to 
him  that  his  personal  appearance  and  his  usefulness 
would  recommend  his  suit  for  the  hand  of  his  employer's 
daughter.  No  other  son-in-law  could  be  so  useful  in 
the  management  of  the  business  as  he. 

He  counted  largely  on  his  personal  appearance,  for 
in  the  circles  in  which  he  lived  he  had  always  been  a 
flattered  favorite.  Nora's  haughtiness  he  at  first  at- 
tributed to  her  seclusion  from  any  contact  with  the 
troupe,  and  the  discovery  he  made  of  her  relation  to 
Count  Degenthal  appeared  to  him  the  explanation  of 
her  antagonism  to  himself.     Jealousy  henceforth  added 


THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER.  163 

fire  to  his  wounded  vanity,  and   he  determined  to  do 
what  he  could  to  remove  all  obstacles  to  his  ambition. 

In  accordance  with  his  character,  the  first  step  was  the 
anonymous  letter  to  the  countess.  In  the  beginning  he 
looked  upon  the  affair  as  an  ordinary  flirtation,  but 
some  chance  words  of  the  director  and  Nora's  increased 
haughtiness  increased  his  desire  for  revenge.  She  must 
be  humbled,  and  the  unfortunate  developments  in  her 
father's  business  promised  to  place  the  means  in  his 
hands. 

White  with  rage  on  seeing  her  about  to  leave  the 
room,  he  opened  the  door  for  her  to  pass  out,  and  his 
black  eyes  burned  still  more  cruelly  as  she  seemed 
entirely  unconscious  of  him.  His  resolution  was 
taken. 

Karsten  was  annoyed  at  his  daughter's  action,  and  in 
order  to  palliate  it  he  rose  and  said,  "  Come  into  my 
private  room  ;  that  is  a  better  place  to  talk  over  busi- 
ness affairs,  which  are  disagreeable  to  ladies." 

"They  seem  to  have  no  love  for  business  men,  on 
whom,  however,  so  much  of  their  happiness  depends," 
he  replied,  so  loud  that  the  words  must  have  reached 
Nora. 

"  I  know  some  who  appreciate  them,"  simpered 
Madame  Karsten  from  her  sofa,  where  she  reclined  very 
gracefully.  "  Karsten,  bring  Signor  Landolfo  back, 
and  do  not  keep  him  all  the  evening,"  she  added,  hold- 
ing out  her  hand,  which  Landolfo  kissed  gallantly. 

Come,  come  !"  called   out    the  director  impatiently, 
leading   the  way   to  his  office,   which  was  on  a  lower 


164  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

floor.  "Well,  what  news?"  he  asked  before  the  door 
was  closed. 

No  sooner  was  Landolfo  alone  with  the  director  than 
his  whole  manner  changed.  He  knew  how  necessary 
he  was,  and  all  pretence  of  deference  disappeared  as  he 
coolly  took  a  cigar  from  Karsten,  and  lighting  it  threw 
himself  into  a  large  chair,  while  his  employer  walked 
up  and  down  the  room  uneasily. 

"  Here  are  some  letters,"  he  said,  throwing  a  package 
on  the  table. 

"  But  the  banker  ?"  asked  Karsten  excitedly. 

"  A  severe  loss  at  best.  Two  thirds  at  least  must  go, 
if  not  more." 

"  What  a  blow  !"  cried  the  director.  "  What  a  terri- 
ble loss  !  I  don't  see  how  I  can  meet  it.  The  troupe 
is  doing  moderately  well,  but  the  expenses  this  winter 
have  been  enormous." 

Landolfo  silently  puffed  curls  of  smoke  into  the 
air. 

"  Two  thirds  lost — that  means  ruin  !"  muttered  Kar- 
sten. 

"  One  good  season  would  make  it  up,"  replied  Lan- 
dolfo quietly. 

"  But  can  I  dig  a  good  season  out  of  the  ground  ?" 
cried  the  director  angrily.  "  That  fellow  will  ruin  me  ; 
he  will  leave  nothing  untried.  One  man  cannot  vie 
with  him  ;  the  business  must  be  turned  into  a  stock 
company.  It  is  all  a  plan  to  rob  me  of  my  hard-earned 
reputation  ;  but  I  shall  not  let  them  drive  me  from  the 
field." 


THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER.  165 

"  What  reports  do  you  get  from  the  company  ?" 
asked  Landolfo  quietly. 

The  director  shrugged  his  shoulders  as  he  answered, 
"  The  new  clown  is  asking  for  higher  wages  ;  he  cannot 
have  them  ;  the  treasurer  is  out  of  funds.  This  new 
company  has  forestalled  us  in  our  tours  through  Cen- 
tral Germany.  It  is  fine  equestrianism  to  exhibit  trained 
lions,  is  it  not  ?" 

"  I  would  do  still  better,  and  introduce  abetter  lion," 
suggested  Landolfo  with  a  malicious  smile. 

The  director  did  not  seem  to  hear.  He  was  occupied 
with  his  letters,  which  had  lain  on  the  table.  Suddenly 
an  oath  escaped  him.  "  What  now  !"  he  exclaimed  as 
he  tore  the  paper  he  held  in  two.  "  Here  is  a  pretty 
row  among  the  women.  Miss  Elisa,  my  first  rider,  gives 
me  notice." 

"  What  does  she  say  ?"  asked  Landolfo  unconcernedly. 

"  Read  for  yourself,  I  do  not  understand  her  non- 
sense." 

Landolfo  read  the  letter,  and  as  he  laid  it  down  re- 
marked, "  I  expected  this." 

"  What  did  you  expect  ?  what  is  the  matter  ?"  asked 
the  director. 

"  Professional  grievances  ;  Miss  Nora  did  not  return 
her  visit,  which  our  beauty  will  not  brook.  Every  one 
is  not  so  patient  as  I." 

"  Provoking  !"  growled  the  director  ;  "  that  girl  will 
ruin  us  with  her  foolish  pride."  He  paced  the  room, 
and  facing  his  companion  said,  "  What  shall  we  do, 
Landolfo  ?" 


i66  THE  circus-rider's  daughter. 

"  Engage  another  ;   Elisa  is  no  longer  a  novelty." 

"  Engage  another  !"  cried  Karsten.  "  Where  can  we 
find  another  to  equal  her  ?  and  the  sums  these  creatures 
demand.  Soon  I  shall  not  have  a  penny  in  my  pocket. 
It  makes  my  hair  stand  on  end  when  I  think  of  the  situ- 
ation ;  it  is  ruin.      I  cannot  bear  it  !" 

"  I  know  no  one  better  prepared  for  it  than  you," 
calmly  rejoined  Landolfo,  rising  to  shake  off  his  cigar 
ashes. 

"  Than  I  !"  exclaimed  Karsten,  trying  in  vain  to  look 
into  Landolfo's  averted  face. 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Landolfo  ?  You  are  clever  ; 
have  you  some  plan  ?" 

"  Miss  Nora,"  he  said,  as  he  kept  his  face  turned 
away,  apparently  occupied  with  his  cigar — "  Miss  Nora 
is  the  best  rider  I  know.  Elisa  does  not  compare  with 
her.  As  for  her  beauty,  it  would  attract  the  whole 
world.     Let  Miss  Nora  appear,  and  the  battle  is  won." 

Karsten  shrank  back,  and  after  some  minutes  said,  in 
a  stifled  voice,  "  My  daughter  has  never  ridden  in 
public." 

Landolfo  said  nothing. 

"  Her  mother  did  not  wish  it,"  he  said,  as  if  commun- 
ing with  himself. 

"  Circumstances  alter  cases,"  suggested  Landolfo. 

"  She  would  never  consent,"  said  Karsten. 

"  Every  one  speaks  of  Miss  Nora's  piety.  She  surely 
understands  that  it  is  a  child's  duty  to  save  her  father 
from  ruin." 

Cold  perspiration  stood  out  on  Karsten's  forehead  as 


THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER.  167 

he  said,  "  She  has  other  duties.  She  is  engaged,  and 
I  have  given  my  word  to  the  count." 

"  Engaged,  indeed  !"  continued  Landolfo  with  a 
mocking  smile.  "  Possibly  to  the  young  Austrian.  Has 
it  been  officially  announced  ?" 

"  It  is  to  remain  a  secret  for  two  years,"  explained 
the  director. 

"  Such  engagements  ! — engaged  between  ourselves — 
are  understood,"  said  Landolfo,  with  a  meaning  look 
and  shrug.  "  I  suppose  that  is  the  reason  the  young 
man  went  so  hastily  to  the  East.  No  doubt  his  mamma 
managed  that." 

"Where  is  he  gone?"  asked  Karsten,  for  Nora  had 
told  him  nothing  of  the  appointment. 

"  As  attache  to  the  ambassador  to  Turkey.  Change 
of  air  was  considered  desirable  for  the  young  gentle- 
man. Eastern  lovers  will  teach  him  some  lessons,  my 
fiiend,"  said  Landolfo,  placing  his  hand  familiarly  on 
his  employer's  shoulder.  "  Let  us  understand  each 
other;  this  engagement  means  love,  not  marriage." 

"  I  consider  the  count  a  man  of  honor,"  said  Karsten, 
as  a  red  spot  appeared  on  his  cheek.  Shrinking  from 
the  familiarity  of  his  manager,  he  proudly  turned  away. 

"  I  also,"  said  Landolfo  unabashed  ;  "  but  he  is 
young,  very  young.  Be  just,  director.  From  his  stand- 
point it  would  be  madness,  and  madness  is  unstable. 
Such  is  life  where  such  madness  is  sweet.  The  young 
couple  have  already  had  their  misunderstandings." 

"  What  do  you  know  about  them  ?"  asked  the  director 
sternly. 


i68  THE  circus-rider's  daughter. 

"  A  fortunate  or  unfortunate  chance  made  me  an  un- 
willing witness  to  a  little  love  scene.  Miss  Nora,  in 
tears,  became  offended  because  the  count  reproached 
her  for  being  with  the  troupe.  She  then  begged  him 
to  give  up  the  journey  and  the  Turkish  appointment. 
The  count's  answer  was  to  leave  that  very  evening  with- 
out further  leave-taking." 

"  I  never  heard  of  this,"  said  Karsten, 

"  It  would  not  be  very  pleasant  for  your  daughter  to 
repeat  it  to  you.  Miss  Nora  is  a  clever  young  lady,  and 
as  soon  as  she  sees  things  clearly,  she  will  know  how  to 
act.      She  will  understand,"   he  added,    in   a  drawling 

m 

tone,  "  that  bankruptcy  will  not  help  matters,  and  that 
the  daughter  of  a  ruined  circus  director  will  be  less 
acceptable  than  the  daughter  of  a  millionaire." 

Karsten  was  stupefied  ;  these  words  brought  back  the 
conversation  he  had  had  with  the  chaplain,  his  prom- 
ised settlements,  and  now  the  consciousness  that  he 
could  not  make  his  promise  good.  It  occurred  to  him 
that  it  would  be  unnatural  for  a  daughter  to  refuse  to 
save  her  father's  honor  when  she  could. 

"  She  will  never  do  it  !"  he  cried  aloud. 

"  Strange  idea  of  filial  duty  !"  said  Landolfo  frigidly. 
"  Our  people  are  despised,  but  they  understand  this 
thing  differently.  Sleep  over  it.  The  morning  will 
help  you  to  decide.  The  house  has  not  yet  begun  to 
burn  over  your  head.  We  have  three  months'  credit, 
and  at  the  worst —  I  repeat,  Miss  Nora  cannot  be  so 
unnatural  as  to  refuse.     Try  her." 

He  lighted  a  fresh  cigar,  and  seemed  waiting  for  Kar- 


THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER.  169 

sten's  reply.  None  came,  and  the  burning  spot  on  his 
cheek  grew  darker.  Landolfo  asked  if  he  might  retire, 
and  received  only  a  nod  as  answer,  and  the  director  was 
alone.  His  brain  burned  with  the  question,  "  Would 
it  be  in  nature  for  a  child  to  refuse  to  save  her  father 
from  positive  ruin  ?" 

The  count  !  The  count!  A  silly  love  affair  ended. 
She  would  return  to  her  natural  station.  He  had  kept 
his  promise  to  her  mother  with  regard  to  her  educa- 
tion ;  but  circumstances  alter  cases,  as  Landolfo  had 
said.  An  idea  seemed  suddenly  to  strike  him — he  would 
sell  out  the  entire  business  and  retire  ;  but  he  put  it 
aside.  He  could  not  allow  his  rival  to  feel  that  he  had 
conquered.  "  That  would  not  console  her,  and  would 
give  me  but  little  help,"  he  said.  "  She  shall  decide 
for  herself,"  he  muttered.  "  I  will  explain  everything 
to  her,  and  she  must  judge  for  herself.  I  will  tell  her 
nothing,  I  will  tell  her  nothing,"  he  added  ;  and  still 
the  words  seemed  to  echo  in  his  ear  all  night,  "It  is 
not  natural  that  a  child  should  refuse  to  assist  and  save 
her  father !" 


lyo  THE    CIRCUS-RIDERS    DAUGHTER. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

'V  T  EXT  morning  Nora  had  her  horse  saddled  in  order 
■^  ^  to  take  her  accustomed  early  ride.  It  was  a 
lovely  day,  and  her  spirited  steed  seemed  to  prance  in 
time  to  the  beating  of  her  heart.  She  was  very  happy, 
thinking  of  the  surprise  Curt  had  given  her  just  a  month 
ago.  As  she  entered  the  court,  which  was  separated 
from  the  park  by  a  low  wall,  she  saw  her  father  stand- 
ing at  the  window  of  his  study.  She  nodded  to  him, 
and  in  order  to  give  him  pleasure,  she  encouraged  her 
horse  to  rear  that  she  might  bring  him  again  to  his  feet. 
She  then  put  the  beautiful  animal  through  several  tricks, 
and  again  saluting,  she  jumped  the  wall  and  cantered 
at  full  speed  through  the  park.  Her  father  looked  with 
delight  at  the  complete  mastery  she  displayed  over  the 
fiery  young  animal,  which  she  had  chosen  entirely  un- 
broken. As  she  galloped  by  he  could  not  refrain  from 
admiring  her.  "  He  was  right,"  Karsten  said  ;  "  her 
wonderful  beauty  would  attract  the  world.  She  would 
be  the  pearl  of  the  ring.     She  is  my  own  daughter." 

The  graceful  girl  little  suspected  the  thoughts  she 
evoked  ;  her  only  object  was  to  distract  her  dear  father 
from  the  thoughts  that  had  evidently  been  disturbing 
him  lately.  What  could  it  be  that  had  annoyed  him  ? 
But  she  could  not  dwell  on  dark  thoughts  to-day, 
everything  in  the  future  looked  so  bright.     The  months 


THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER.  17I 

would  pass  quickly,  and  then  she  would  be  Curt's. 
How  sweet  it  sounded  !  She  dwelt  on  every  word  he 
had  uttered.  How  handsome  he  looked  !  and — oh  joy 
to  a  woman's  heart — how  tenderly  devoted  he  was  !  The 
remembrance  drove  the  blood  to  her  cheeks,  and  her 
hand  quivered  with  each  pulsation  of  her  heart.  Her 
thoughts  flew  far,  far  into  the  future,  when  she  would 
be  Curt's  wife,  and  when  for  life  she  should  bear  his 
name,  which  would  give  her  the  place  and  position  from 
which  she  was  now  shut  out.  Nora  fully  appreciated 
the  advantage  of  station,  and  never  hesitated  to  acknowl- 
edge it.  All  happiness  has  its  chief  spring  in  the  heart, 
but  there  flow  into  it  many  small  tributary  streams,  and 
the  more  there  are  of  these,  the  more  powerful  is  the 
torrent.  Hours  pass  quickly  when  one  dreams  beneath 
the  green  trees  of  life  and  love.  The  sun  was  already 
high  when  Nora  turned  her  horse's  head  homeward, 
and  in  order  to  shorten  the  way  she  determined  to  cross 
a  brook  which  ran  at  the  end  of  the  park,  and  was 
crossed  by  a  wooden  bridge  leading  to  the  neighboring 
city.  The  banks  were  slippery  ;  her  horse  stumbled 
and  would  have  fallen  had  there  not  been  a  steady  hand 
on  the  bridle.  "  What  a  dangerous  place  !"  she  said, 
looking  on  the  high  banks,  broken  bridge,  and  deep 
stream. 

Arrived  at  home,  she  found  that  the  family  had  left 
the  breakfast-room.  Her  step-mother  and  the  baby 
were  in  the  garden,  so  she  descended  to  her  father's 
room  to  wish  him  good  morning.  She  stopped  at  the 
door  as  she  saw  the  director  sitting  with  his  head  rest- 


172  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

ing  on  his  hand,  the  picture  of  despair.  An  open  paper 
was  beside  him,  and  a  telegram  had  fallen  to  the 
ground.  With  the  quick  instinct  of  love  she  connected 
all  this  with  his  changed  manner  and  evident  uneasi- 
ness. In  an  instant  she  was  kneeling  beside  him,  in- 
quiring with  the  most  affectionate  words  the  cause  of 
his  trouble.  She  had  always  been  devotedly  fond  of 
her  father,  and  now  a  feeling  of  compunction  was  mixed 
with  her  love,  for  she  was  conscious  that  she  had  allowed 
the  new  love  to  take  the  first  place.  She  was  now  very 
tender,  and  her  father  enjoyed  the  caresses  of  his  child  ; 
but  in  vain  she  begged  him  to  tell  her  his  trouble.  At 
such  times  how  fluently  words  flow  from  the  lips,  and 
how  easy  it  is  to  promise  any  sacrifice  that  might  lighten 
the  burden  !  The  director  raised  his  head  and  looked 
into  the  earnest  eyes  of  his  daughter.  Was  it  his  better 
self  dictating  his  words,  abrupt  as  they  were,  "  Go, 
you  belong  to  another.  You  no  longer  belong  to  your 
father,  and  cannot  help  him"? 

His  daughter's  eyes  filled  with  tears,  for  she  thought 
her  father  had  some  reason  for  the  reproach,  and  all 
the  more  she  tried  to  convince  him  of  her  love.  She 
spoke  fondly,  and  tried  to  discover  the  cause  of  his 
trouble  in  the  telegram  ;  but  the  cipher  was  an  enigma 
to  her.  She  concluded  that  it  must  be  a  question  of 
pecuniary  anxiety,  and  begged  him  to  tell  her  all  ;  that 
she  had  strength  to  bear  it. 

The  telegraphic  dispatch  was  from  Landolfo,  and  an- 
nounced increasing  complications,  which  would  leave 
even  less  than  the  percentage  he  mentioned  yesterday. 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  173 

Karsten  saw  clearly  that  this  would  ruin  him,  and  he 
was  in  that  state  of  mind  when  a  man  will  grasp  any- 
thing that  promises  relief. 

He  looked  longingly  at  his  daughter,  and  said,  "  If 
any  one  can  help  me,  it  is  you." 

"  I  !"  she  repeated,  and  at  the  same  moment,  remem- 
bering her  mother's  fortune,  which  was  settled  on  her, 
she  continued,  "  Father,  do  you  allude  to  mother's  por- 
tion ?  Oh,  how  can  you  doubt  !  Take  everything  be- 
longing to  me.     What  is  mine  is  yours." 

"That  cannot  help  me,"  he  said;  "it  is  already 
gone." 

She  looked  at  him  in  a  bewildered  way.  Had  he 
really  taken  what  rightfully  belonged  to  her,  and  was 
that  what  was  preying  upon  his  conscience  ?  But  youth 
is  generous,  and  Nora  was  more  than  usually  so  ;  she 
embraced  him  still  more  affectionately,  and  said,  "  Do 
not  allow  that  to  trouble  you,  darling  father  ;  use  the 
money  as  you  wish,  only  tell  me  how  I  can  help  you." 

The  director  rose  as  if  a  weight  had  been  removed, 
and  said,  "  Now  you  cannot  be  his  ;  it  is  better  so." 

Nora  shrank  back,  gasping,  "  What  do  you  mean, 
father  ?  Do  you  refer  to  Curt  ?  Do  you  mean  that  I 
cannot  be  his  because  I  am  poor  ?  Oh,  he  has  not 
given  that  a  thought." 

"  I  had  intended,"  replied  her  father,  "  to  have  built 
a  golden  bridge  which  could  lead  you  to  those  people 
for  whom  your  heart  longs  so  unwisely.  I  offered  to 
sunder  every  tie  which  bound  you  to  me  in  order  that 
you  might  attain  the  happiness  for  which   you  longed, 


174  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

and  all  against  my  better  judgment  ;  but  now  the  bridge 
is  broken,  the  chasm  has  grown  impassable.  You  are 
not  only  the  circus-rider's  daughter,  but  the  daughter 
of  a  swindler  and  liar,  according  to  their  ideas." 

"  Father,  of  what  are  you  thinking  ?  Your  anxieties 
have  over-excited  you.  Curt  is  just,  and  will  judge 
with  justice.  Believe  me,  he  loves  me  sufficiently  to  be 
indifferent  to  mere  money." 

"  Mere  money  !"  he  repeated  scornfully.  "  He  can- 
not live  without  it  ;  that  is  certain.  Beside  the  anger 
of  his  family  and  the  social  disturbance  that  a  marriage 
with  you  will  bring  into  his  life,  you  wish  to  deprive 
him  of  the  means  of  living  !  A  pretty  love,  that  demands 
such  sacrifices." 

Nora  rose  to  her  feet,  pressing  her  hand  to  her  heart 
as  if  to  still  a  sudden  pain.  The  director  also  arose, 
and  the  more  excited  he  grew  the  louder  he  screamed, 
"  For  what  is  your  mad  passion  waiting?  Must  he 
break  the  engagement  and  throw  back  the  yoke  you 
impose  upon  him  ?  Is  it  not  enough  for  him  to  show 
you  that  he  thinks  no  distance  too  great  to  separate 
you  ?  Is  it  not  enough  for  you  to  see  that  his  family 
look  on  you  as  a  contamination  ?  Do  you  propose  to 
use  your  father's  ruin  as  an  appeal  for  the  granting  of 
his  favor  ?" 

Nora  was  not  dismayed  by  this  wild  outburst.  She 
lifted  her  head  and  said  proudly,  "  It  is  only  four  weeks 
since  Curt  came  here  from  the  far  East  to  reassure  me 
of  his  unchangeable  love.     I  believe  in  him." 

"  Indeed  ;  so  he  steals  here  to  tell  you  of  a  love  which 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDERS    DAUGHTER.  175 

he  is  ashamed  to  acknowledge  in  public  !  And  this 
you  call  love  !  This  satisfies  you  !  This  is  the  pride 
your  exclusive  education  has  taught  you  !  The  lowest 
one  of  my  troupe  would  not  submit  to  such  an  insult. 
You  listen  merely  to  passion,  and  are  indifferent  to  all 
else  !" 

"  Oh,  father,  father  !"  pleaded  the  wounded  child, 
"  why  are  you  so  cruel  ?  Only  tell  me  in  what  way  I 
can  be  of  use  to  you,  and  you  will  not  find  me  indiffer- 
ent. I  would  be  the  last  to  bind  Curt  if  I  thought  it 
would  make  him  unhappy.  Tell  me  what  I  can  do  for 
you." 

The  director  walked  up  and  down  the  room,  and  then 
said,  "  I  shall  see  what  your  words  are  worth."  Facing 
her,  he  thundered  forth,  "  Be  your  father's  daughter!" 

Nora  was  speechless,  and  he  continued  : 

"  Save  him  from  ruin.  By  appearing  in  public  you 
can  do  this.  You  have  talent  which  will  enchain  the 
public.      In  a  few  months  I  will  regain  what  I  have  lost." 

Nora  looked  at  him  blankly,  as  if  listening  to  a  foreign 
language. 

"  You  are  mistress  of  the  art,"  he  continued.  "  You 
will  be  a  new  and  fresh  element  which  the  world  will 
admire.  You  have  inherited  my  talent ;  nature  intended 
you  for  this  career.  Beauty  and  cleverness  slept  in  your 
cradle.  You  will  outshine  all,  as  was  prophesied  in 
your  childhood." 

Light  seemed  suddenly  to  dawn  upon  her.  She  cov- 
ered her  face  with  her  hands  and  cried  in  a  piercing 
voice,  "  Never,  never  ;  it  cannot  be  !" 


176  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

"  ]  thought  SO,"  he  said,  turning  away  ;  "  your  idea 
of  devotion  does  not  include  sacrifice." 

"Father,"  she  cried,  "  anything  but  that!  I  will 
work  for  you,  suffer  with  you,  abandon  all  for  you — 
anything,  everything  but  that." 

"  Everything  but  the  one  thing  that  will  help," 
he  said,  rudely  pushing  her  from  him.  "  You  have  but 
idle  words  to  offer.  Go,  bury  yourself  in  your  pride, 
and  leave  your  father  to  his  fate." 

"  But,  father,  I  have  other  talents.  I  will  seek  a 
position,  and  all  my  earnings  shall  be  yours." 

"  The  few  thalers  your  position  will  earn  can  do  won- 
ders !"  he  repeated  with  a  sneer.  "  Spare  me  your 
fine  words." 

"  Father,  think  of  my  mother." 

"  Your  mother  would  never  have  failed  me  in  my 
necessity.  She  hesitated  at  no  sacrifice,"  he  said,  soften- 
ing a  little.  "  She  abandoned  all  in  order  to  go  with 
me,  notwithstanding  my  position,  for  which  you  have 
such  contempt.  Is  her  wish,  expressed  under  entirely 
different  circumstances,  more  to  you  than  your  father's 
disgrace  ?" 

Nora  sank  to  the  ground  in  utter  wretchedness,  and 
yet  all  she  could  say  was,  "  Sooner  die  !  Sooner 
die  !" 

"  Even  if  I  should  beg  you  ?"  asked  her  father  wildly, 
laying  his  hand  on  her  head.  "  Understand  well,  with- 
out this  help  I  am  ruined  !" 

"  Rather  die  !     Rather  die  !"    were   the   only   words 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  177 

that    came    from    the    blanched    lips    of    the    suffering 
girl. 

"  Yes,  rather  die  than  humble  your  pride  !"  hissed 
Karsten  in  a  choked,  hoarse  voice,  as  he  turned  and  left 
the  room. 


178  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 


CHAPTER   XV. 

NORA  was  unconscious  of  being  alone.  With  her 
hands  pressed  to  her  face  she  remained  lying  on 
the  floor,  overwhelmed  by  the  proposition  she  had  just 
heard.  She  tried  to  go  over  what  her  father  had  said, 
but  it  was  all  a  mystery.  The  only  clear  thought  re- 
maining was  that  she  must  be  proof  against  all  persua- 
sion and  argument.  No  power  on  earth  must  induce 
her  to  lower  herself  to  such  a  degree. 

She  felt  bitter  at  the  thought  that  her  father  could 
make  such  a  request.  How  could  he  think  of  it  ?  Who 
could  have  given  him  such  advice  ?  Instinctively  she 
thought  of  Landolfo.  But  she  resolved  not  to  lose 
time  in  thinking  of  this  ;  her  only  care  now  must  be 
how  to  help,  how  to  overcome  existing  evils.  Sorely 
she  felt  the  want  of  counsel,  and  her  woman's  heart 
turned  to  the  man  she  loved. 

Surely  this  was  a  time  when  the  urgency  of  the  case 
would  excuse  their  overstepping  the  imposed  condi- 
tions. A  resolution  to  write  to  him  brought  her  some 
comfort.  As  she  arose  to  go  to  her  own  room,  she  heard 
some  one  calling  her.  She  slipped  quietly  through  a 
side  door,  for  she  felt  it  impossible  to  meet  strange 
eyes,  and  gained  her  room  unseen. 

She  seated  herself  at  her  writing-desk,  but  the  first 
words  brought  back  the  scene  with  her  father  so  forci- 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDERS    DAUGHTER.  179 

biy  that  she  laid  her  pen  aside.  There  was  a  knock  at 
her  door,  and  before  she  could  reach  it  Landolfo  en- 
tered, saying  hastily,  "  Miss  Nora,  are  you  here  ?  Where 
is  your  father  ?" 

Nora  received  the  intruder  coldly,  but  he  appeared 
not  to  notice  it,  and  there  was  genuine  agitation  in  his 
voice  as  he  continued,  "  Where  is  your  father  ?  I  know 
that  he  was  with  you,  for  he  had  matters  of  the  first 
importance  to  discuss  with  you.  Have  you  eased  his 
mind  ?     How  did  he  appear  when  he  left  you  ?" 

Nora  looked  at  him  as  if  in  a  dream,  and  merely  shook 
her  head. 

"Oh,  is  that  the  way  you  sent  your  father  away  ?" 
he  asked  scornfully.  "Very  filial,  indeed!  You  do 
not  seem  to  understand  what  a  man  may  do  on  the 
brink  of  ruin.  Once  more,  Miss  Nora,  where  is  the 
director?"  he  asked,  stamping  his  foot  impatiently  as 
she  continued  to  look  at  him  vacantly. 

Nora  was  deathly  pale,  and  put  her  hand  to  her  head 
as  if  to  collect  her  thoughts.  "  I  do  not  know.  What 
do  you  mean  ?"  she  gasped.  "  He  went  into  the  garden 
after  our  conversation  ;  let  us  seek  him  there." 

"Into  the  garden!  Did  he  go  alone?"  inquired 
Landolfo,  in  a  harsh  voice.  "  Madame  Karsten  imag- 
ined you  were  together,  and  did  not  like  to  disturb  you. 
We  did  not  suppose  that  a  daughter  would  leave  her 
father  in  his  distress.  You  are  to  blame  for  the  conse- 
quences," he  added  remorselessly. 

"  Leave  her  father  alone  !"  The  words  struck  her  to 
the  heart.     She  had  thought  only  of  her  own  misery. 


i8o  THE  circus-rider's  daughter. 

"  We  must  look  for  him  immediately,"  she  said,  and, 
filled  with  horror,  she  stretched  out  her  hand  to  Lan- 
dolfo,  saying,  "  Come  with  me  to  find  him." 

"You  are  entirely  to  blame  for  the  consequences," 
reiterated  the  man.  She  did  not  hear  him,  for  she  was 
flying  down  the  steps  to  the  garden.  Her  step-mother 
stopped  her  to  ask  where  her  father  had  been  all  the 
morning.  Nora  had  no  time  to  stand  talking.  "  He 
must  be  in  the  garden,  or  perhaps  has  gone  to  the  city  !" 
she  called  out,  running  so  quickly  that  Landolfo  could 
scarcely  keep  pace  with  her.  Every  minute  was  pre- 
cious. She  heard  only  the  echo  of  the  words,  "  You 
are  to  blame  for  the  consequences  !"  Good  God  !  She 
understood  all  now.  Before  her  startled  eyes  stood  the 
phantom  evoked  by  the  words  he  "  could  not  bear  ruin" 
spoken  by  her  father.  His  last  words  were  a  repetition 
of  her  own,  "  Rather  die  !  Rather  die  !"  Oh,  God, 
what  more  ! 

Like  a  hunted  deer  she  ran  along  the  winding  paths, 
calling  her  father.  Unconsciously  she  directed  her 
steps  to  a  spot  which  seemed  burned  into  her  brain. 
That  slippery  bank,  the  broken  bridge,  the  tangled  un- 
dergrowth, the  deep  stream. 

"  Do  you  really  believe  that  your  father  went  to  the 
city  ?"  asked  Landolfo,  coming  by  a  short  cut.  "  He 
believed  me  there." 

"  It  is  possible.  A  wooden  bridge  crosses  the  stream," 
replied  Nora,  as  if  to  reassure  herself.  Suddenly  it 
seemed  as  if  leaden  weights  were  on  her  feet  ;  she 
stared  at  the  stream  paralyzed. 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  ISI 

"  Stand  back.  Miss  Nora,  this  is  no  place  for  you," 
whispered  Landolfo  hoarsely  as  he  seized  her  arm. 

Nora  tore  herself  from  his  grasp,  and  sinking  on  her 
knees,  moaned  aloud.  Instinct  had  guided  her  aright  ; 
her  worst  fears  seemed  realized.  Partly  sunken  in  the 
water,  a  figure  lay  stretched  out,  the  head  resting  on 
the  bank,  as  if  the  current  had  thrown  it  up.  Had  he 
slipped  into  the  stream  ?  Had  he  become  dizzy  ?  Had 
he  done  it  intentionally,  and  had  a  kind  Providence 
saved  him  ?  Nora's  first  impulse  was  to  raise  the  heavy 
figure,  which  gave  no  sign  of  consciousness.  Landolfo 
was  quickly  by  her  side.  "  Be  quiet  and  collected," 
he  said,  but  his  countenance  belied  his  words.  Cold 
sweat  stood  out  on  his  forehead,  and  his  teeth  chat- 
tered audibly.  With  superhuman  strength  he  pulled 
the  gigantic  body  from  the  water,  and  laid  the  head 
carefully  on  Nora's  knee.  "  He  is  not  dead,"  he  said, 
as  he  placed  his  hand  over  the  heart  of  the  unconscious 
man  ;  "  he  has  only  fainted  ;  loosen  his  necktie  and  rub 
him  as  hard  as  you  can,  while  I  go  to  the  house  for  as- 
sistance. On  his  way  to  the  city  the  bridge  broke  under 
him,"  Landolfo  added  decidedly,  and  kicking  the  rot- 
ten boards  about,  he  left. 

Nora  did  not  hear  or  see  what  he  did.  Mechanically 
she  did  what  she  was  told,  haunted  by  the  terrible 
thought,  had  she  driven  her  father  to  this  ?  Had  she 
in  his  hour  of  misfortune  so  repulsed  him  that  he  saw 
no  other  alternative  ?  "  Through  my  fault,  through 
my  fault  !"  sounded  in  her  ears.  "  Father,  father, 
only  live  and  I  will  do  whatever  you  desire,"  she  whis- 


102  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

pered  into  the  ears  of  the  unconscious  man,  as  though 
he  must  hear  it  and  it  would  revive  him. 

Was  it  the  change  of  position  or  the  rubbing  or  the 
voice  of  his  child  which  made  a  shiver  pass  over  the 
body  and  a  light  breath  move  the  compressed  lips  ? 

Nora  tightened  her  hands  and  prayed,  "  Let  him  live, 
my  God  !  Do  not  let  him  die  through  my  fault.  My 
whole  life  shall  be  spent  in  reparation  for  this  moment." 
She  pressed  a  small  crucifix  to  her  father's  lips,  and 
then  to  her  own.  "  Nothing  will  be  too  much  to  save 
you,  father."  It  seemed  that  complete  resignation 
must  purchase  the  life  so  dear  to  her. 

Landolfo  at  length  arrived  with  assistance.  Madame 
Karsten  understood  from  him  that  her  husband  had 
sprained  his  ankle  in  the  woods,  and  a  stretcher  must 
be  sent  for  him.  To  the  men  who  came,  the  broken 
bridge  was  sufficient  explanation. 

They  lifted  the  director  carefully  to  the  stretcher, 
Mora  still  holding  his  hand  firmly.  When  she  thought 
that  she  perceived  some  sign  of  returning  consciousness 
she  whispered  again  her  willingness  to  obey  him,  so 
afraid  was  she  that  he  might  die  without  understanding 
her.  Once  his  countenance  seemed  to  give  signs  of 
comprehending  ;  once  she  thought  that  she  felt  a  slight 
pressure  of  the  hand. 

The  accident  was  followed  by  hours  of  anxiety.  In 
her  excitement  Madame  Karsten  was  perfectly  useless, 
while  Nora's  strength  and  tact  were  doubled.  With 
perfect  composure  she  left  no  care  neglected.  The 
doctor  pronounced  the  director  to  be  suffering  from  a 


THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER.  183 

slight  Stroke  of  paralysis,  aggravated  by  remaining  so 
long  in  the  water.  For  several  days  he  hovered  be- 
tween life  and  death.  Nora  did  not  leave  him  day  or 
night  ;  she  neither  spoke  nor  complained  nor  wept,  but 
did  everything  as  if  his  life  depended  upon  it,  and  she 
seemed  lost  to  every  other  consideration. 

When  the  invalid  was  restored  to  full  consciousness, 
he  never  alluded  to  the  accident  or  to  the  circumstances 
preceding  it.  As  memory  returned  he  seemed  dis- 
tressed, and  he  sought  Nora's  eye  furtively.  Nora  did 
not  stop  at  half  measures  ;  she  wished  to  bring  imme- 
diate rest  to  the  tired  brain.  Kneeling  at  his  bedside, 
and  with  her  arms  around  him,  she  renewed  the  prom- 
ises made  while  he  was  unconscious. 

At  first  he  eyed  her  incredulously,  then  with  a  ques- 
tioning look,  and  finally,  as  a  childish  joy  overspread 
his  features,  he  embraced  her  and  said,  "  Then  it  was 
not  a  dream  ;  it  was  not  imagination  ?  You  will  help 
me  ?  Nora,  Nora,  you  will  save  your  father  !  I  knew 
that  you  would  be  a  good  child,  and  not  abandon  me 
in  my  necessity.  Now  your  old  father  will  not  be 
obliged  to  part  with  his  beautiful  horses,  that  have  been 
the  pride  and  joy  of  his  life,  and  without  which  he  could 
not  live.  Nora,  now  we  shall  drive  my  rival  out  of  the 
field  !  It  will  be  as  it  was  when  you  were  a  little  girl, 
and  knew  no  greater  joy  than  to  have  papa  put  you  on 
a  horse.  Do  you  remember,  Nora  ?  There  came  a 
chasm  between  us.  They  took  my  little  daughter 
from  me  ;  but,  like  your  mother,  you  will  do  all  I 
wish  ?" 


184  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

"  All,"  sighed  Nora  ;  but  there  rang  untold  agony  in 
the  single  word. 

"  You  would  not  have  been  happy  with  him,  my 
child,"  he  said,  in  the  most  pathetic  voice,  and  stroking 
her  bowed  head.  "  You  would  have  been  miserable. 
I  know  the  world.  You  would  always  have  been  looked 
upon  as  an  impostor.  He  would  have  regretted  marry- 
ing you,  and  have  neglected  you.  That  would  have 
been  a  thousand  times  more  bitter  than  this  trial.  Be- 
lieve me,  my  child,  I  have  saved  you  from  much  unhap- 
piness." 

The  director,  tired  from  the  exertion  of  talking,  leaned 
back  on  his  pillow  and  believed  what  he  said.  There 
is  nothing  so  persuasive  as  egotism. 

Nora  laid  her  poor,  tired  head  on  the  pillow  of  her 
father,  who  held  her  hand  fast,  as  if  he  feared  that  she 
might  escape  from  him  and  change  her  mind. 

"  All  !"  she  repeated,  and  the  height  and  depth  of 
her  sacrifice  rose  up  before  her.  Her  love  gone  ;  her 
position  despised  ;  every  joy  lost,  every  hope  buried. 
Heavily  this  knowledge  fell  upon  her  heart,  so  that  it 
was  hard  to  repress  a  cry  of  agony.  Did  the  father  see 
in  his  sleep  what  his  child  was  suffering  ?  He  threw 
himself  from  side  to  side  and  muttered,  "  She  will  not 
do  it,  Landolfo  ;  she  will  not  do  it." 

"  Yes,  she  will  do  it  !"  repeated  Nora  decidedly  ; 
then  she  rose,  freed  her  hand  gently  from  his  grasp, 
called  a  nurse,  and  for  the  first  time  in  days  and  nights 
went  to  her  own  room.  It  did  not  seem  the  same  ; 
everything  in  life  was  changed  since  she  was  here  last. 


THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER.  185 

On  her  desk  lay  the  letter  she  had  begun  to  Curt. 
The  words  looked  like  spectres.  Now  she  must  retract 
all  that  she  had  promised.  It  was  all  past — all  past. 
With  one  hasty  look  she  tore  the  page.  "  It  must 
be,  it  must  be  !"  she  cried.  Although  her  eyes  were 
bloodshot  from  want  of  sleep  and  every  limb  ached, 
she  sat  down  and  wrote  as  if  in  a  dream.  What  did  she 
write  ?  That  she  could  never  remember.  It  was  a 
clear  recital  of  the  events  of  each  day  until  she  was 
forced  to  the  final  decision.  It  appeared  to  her  as 
though  she  were  writing  of  another  ;  it  did  not  seem 
possible  that  she  could  have  borne  what  she  described. 
She  was  brave  until  the  end,  but  the  last  farewell,  which 
was  to  open  the  impassable  abyss,  overcame  her. 

Like  one  dying,  I  bid  you  farewell  ;  like  one  dying, 
who  does  not  ask  if  there  be  any  hope.  Curt,  I  could 
not  accept  your  helping  hand.  Had  you  been  near, 
perhaps  you  might  have  suggested  some  other  way  out 
of  this  trouble.  But  it  is  my  duty  !  May  the  sacrifice 
I  make  obtain  pardon  for  me  if  I  am  doing  wrong. 
Adieu,  Curt,  adieu  !" 

The  pen  fell  from  her  hand,  her  head  sank  as  if  in 
utter  prostration,  but  her  mind  was  agitated,  and  could 
find  no  rest  from  an  ever-present  longing.  She  saw 
herself  once  more  the  child  weeping  out  her  first  sorrow 
in  the  arms  of  the  brave,  handsome  boy,  who  placed 
her  by  the  side  of  her  dying  mother,  and  she  felt  the 
feverish,  trembling  hands  which  confided  her  to  her 
father.  In  her  agony  she  cried  aloud,  "  Mother, 
mother,   was  this  your  wish  ?     Did    you    desire   that   I 


i86  THE  circus-rider's  daughter. 

should  belong  exclusively  to  my  father  ?  Oh,  with  my 
heart's  blood  have  I  given  myself  up  to  him.  Now 
come  and  bless  your  child." 

A  drop  of  balm  seemed  to  have  fallen  into  her  soul  ; 
a  blessing  seemed  to  hover  over  her,  the  blessing  which 
sweetens  each  unselfish  offering  and  sanctifies  every  act 
of  self-sacrifice. 

The  letter  lay  before  her.  How  should  she  address 
it  ?  Her  thoughts  were  perfectly  bewildered.  At 
Curt's  visit  they  both  promised  never  again  to  break 
his  mother's  conditions,  and  with  this  in  view  she  did 
not  get  his  address,  and  now  she  shrank  from  trusting 
her  letter  to  strange  hands.  She  concluded  to  send  it 
to  Curt's  mother,  murmuring  to  herself,  "  She  cannot 
ask  more  of  me." 


THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER.  187 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

LANDOLFO  had  accomplished  his  ends  even  more 
quickly  than  he  had  imagined  possible.  He  had 
greatly  exaggerated  the  business  troubles  in  his  tele- 
gram to  the  director,  with  the  expres's  purpose  of  work- 
ing on  Nora's  sympathies,  and  the  tragic  end  of  his 
management  did  not  disturb  his  conscience  so  much 
that  it  could  not  be  quieted  by  the  anticipated  advan- 
tage to  the  business. 

He  was  honestly  convinced  that  Nora's  appearance 
in  public  was  the  only  possible  means  of  recovering  the 
director's  losses,  but  he  also  looked  forward  to  further- 
ing his  own  private  ambition  by  it. 

"  In  a  few  years,"  he  thought,  "  I  shall  possess  the 
treasure,"  and  he  already  looked  on  himself  as  son-in- 
law  of  the  far-famed  circus  director,  and  partner  in  a 
most  successful  business. 

His  first  care  was  to  leave  nothing  undone  to  prevent 
the  possibility  of  Nora's  changing  her  mind,  and  also  to 
prepare  for  her  a  good  reception  from  the  public.  To  him 
all  the  intricacies  of  catering  to  the  public  were  known. 

While  Nora  sat  b)'  her  father's  sick-bed,  telling  little 
items  concerning  her  began  to  appear  in  the  most 
widely  read  papers  ;  at  one  time  it  was  her  beauty  and 
education  that  were  written  of,  at  another  her  love 
affair,  which  was  treated  in  various  manners,  occasion- 


156  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

ally  coming  so  near  the  truth  as  to  almost  betray  the 
names  of  those  interested  ;  again  the  wildest  conjecture 
was  indulged  in.  The  director's  supposed  loss  of  for- 
tune was  also  hinted  at  ;  obscure  hints  at  possible 
change  of  circumstances,  when  Nora  would  appear  as 
the  deserted  maiden,  or  again  as  the  heroic  daughter  or 
the  talented  equestrienne.  All  these  items  of  news 
were  read,  discussed,  and  more  or  less  believed,  for 
Karsten's  celebrity  made  his  affairs  public  property.  The 
public  gradually  grew  curious  to  see  her  who  gave  food 
for  such  general  paper  gossip,  never  suspecting  that  it 
all  proceeded  from  the  same  pen. 

With  cunning  foresight,  Landolfo  took  pains  that  all 
these  articles  should  reach  the  eye  of  the  countess.  She 
had  long  since  received  Nora's  letter  to  her  son.  It 
made  her  very  angry  to  find  that  her  will  had  been  set 
at  defiance,  and  made  this  an  excuse  to  absolve  her  in 
her  own  conscience  from  forwarding  the  letter.  As  the 
newspaper  articles  arrived,  she  naturally  connected  them 
with  the  letter  in  her  possession,  and  did  not  know 
whether  to  be  indignant  or  pleased  that  she  whom  her 
son  had  honored  with  his  love  could  lower  herself  by 
becoming  so  publicly  spoken  of.  That  Nora  was  not 
to  blame  for  all  this  publicity  was  no  excuse  in  the  eyes 
of  the  countess  ;  the  fact  of  publicity  was  sufficient 
reason  that  her  name  should  never  again  be  coupled 
with  that  of  her  son  ;  it  only  strengthened  her  sense  of 
the  justice  of  withholding  the  letter  for  further  develop- 
ments.    They  were  not  slow  in  coming. 

Time  passed,   and  the  director's  recovery  was  more 


THE    circus-rider's   DAUGHTER.  189 

rapid  than  could  have  been  anticipated.  All  his  thoughts 
and  ambition  seemed  to  centre  in  preparations  for  his 
daughter's  appearance  in  public,  on  which  he  placed  his 
hop'es  of  regaining  his  lost  fortune  and  reputation. 
Nora's  appearance  must  be  surrounded  by  all  that  was 
most  brilliant  and  attractive  before  his  hated  rival  could 
interfere.  Hardly  three  weeks  had  passed  since  his 
accident,  when  flaming  posters  in  large  letters  and 
gaudy  colors  announced,  in  the  principal  cities  of  North- 
ern Germany,  the  return  of  the  renowned  Karsten  cir- 
cus, and  the  first  appearance  of  the  accomplished  artist, 
Miss  Nora  Karsten. 

Even  the  countess,  prepared  as  she  was,  could  not  re- 
main unmoved  at  the  sight  of  one  of  these  advertise- 
ments, which  Landolfo  took  care  to  send  her.  Some- 
thing like  pity  for  the  poor  girl  was  awakened  in  her 
bosom.  The  graceful,  noble  figure  and  pure  features, 
in  which  there  was  not  a  trace  of  frivolity,  rose  before 
her.  She  asked  herself  what  could  have  driven  Nora 
to  such  a  course,  but  hastily  concluded  that  whatever 
the  provoking  cause,  the  fact  remained.  A  heavy  weight 
seemed  lifted  off  her  ;  at  last  she  would  obtain  control 
over  her  son.  She  was  too  honorable  to  withhold  the 
letter,  but  she  took  pains  that  it  should  not  go  alone, 
but  accompanied  by  every  item  that  had  appeared,  and 
by  one  of  the  large,  offensive  advertisements,  as  well  as 
by  the  following  letter  : 

"  My  Poor  Son  :  I  cannot  keep  you  in  ignorance  of 
what  the  whole  world  already  knows.     It  will  awaken 


190  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

you  from  a  dream  which  your  mother's  wider  knowl- 
edge of  life  made  her  long  ago  recognize  as  unworthy 
of  you.  Do  not,  my  boy,  blame  yourself  ;  it  is  the 
characteristic  of  noble  souls  to  be  easily  deceived.  I 
thank  God  that  the  awakening  did  not  come  too  late 
for  your  life's  happiness.  Come  to  the  arms  of  your 
mother.  A  mother's  heart  is  always  full  of  consolation 
for  her  children," 

It  was  a  trivial  circumstance,  that  the  countess  had  so 
arranged  the  package  that  her  letter  was  the  last  of  the 
enclosures  that  should  meet  his  eye  ;  but  life  is  made  up 
of  trifles,  and  sometimes  the  lightest  seem  to  bear  the 
weightiest  results.  At  the  same  moment  that  the  pack- 
age left  the  countess's  hand,  Nora  stood  in  the  dressing- 
room  ready  to  appear.  Her  step-mother  and  a  maid 
knelt  before  her,  arranging  the  folds  of  the  rich,  dark 
skirts,  which  in  their  severe  simplicity  displayed  her 
graceful  figure.  Several  wax  candles  burned  at  the  side 
of  a  long  mirror,  before  which  she  stood,  reflecting  her 
rare  beauty.  Her  only  ornament  was  a  wide  gold  chain, 
which  bound  her  dark  hair.  She  neither  looked  at  the 
mirror  nor  at  the  hands  which  w^ere  busy  about  her. 
She  stood  as  one  in  a  dream,  her  cold  hands  clasped 
together  ;  she  had  lived  from  day  to  day  like  one  in  a 
dream.  Her  father  had  saved  her  from  all  the  minor 
details.  Silently  and  quietly  she  had  gone  through  the 
necessary  practice,  and  the  consequent  exercise  had 
kept  her  well. 

But  what  was  the  secret  hope  that  brought  her  daily 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  191 

disappointment,  and  what  was  it  that  made  her  feel  as 
if  the  last  plank  was  gone  from  beneath  her  feet  ?  Even 
at  this  last  moment  she  hesitated,  as  if  she  thought  some- 
thing might  happen  to  prevent  the  final  step.  Youth 
is  rich  in  hope.  She  herself  had  bid  Curt  farewell,  she 
herself  had  forbidden  all  attempt  to  rescue  her  ;  and 
yet,  and  yet,  would  nothing  happen  before  it  was  too 
late  ?  He  had  risked  so  much  for  one  hour's  happi- 
ness !  Each  day  her  heart  had  whispered,  "  To-day," 
and  each  evening  it  had  to  find  some  excuse. 

From  outside  sounded  the  trumpets  which  announced 
the  close  of  the  scene  preceding  her  appearance.  The 
director  came  for  her  just  as  a  servant  handed  her  a  let- 
ter. Nora  shrank  back  ;  her  father  turned  pale  ;  but 
the  next  moment  she  let  the  letter  fall  from  her  hands 
indifferently  :  it  was  from  the  Superior  of  the  convent, 
expressing  her  sympathy.  But  what  is  sympathy  when 
the  heart  hungers  for  love  ? 

"  It  is  time,"  said  the  director  hesitatingly.  This 
last  disappointment  of  an  unacknowledged  hope  had  so 
affected  Nora  that  she  was  seized  with  a  nervous  chill. 

Her  father,  fearing  that  all  his  hopes  were  blasted, 
said,  "Is  it  not  to  be  ?" 

"Yes,  it  is  to  be,"  answered  Nora,  aroused  by  the 
sound  of  his  voice,  which  she  had  only  once  before 
heard  so  hoarse.  "  Yes,  father,  it  is  to  be,"  and  she 
followed  him  with  a  steady  step. 

Landolfo's  plans  promised  to  be  successful  in  every 
particular.  Every  place  in  the  circus  was  filled,  so 
great  was  the  general  curiosity  to  see  the  new  beauty. 


192  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

The  director  had  left  nothing  undone  to  increase  the 
general  effect.  He  seemed  to  wish  to  surround  his 
daughter  with  a  halo  of  glory.  Grooms  in  gorgeous 
livery  stood  on  all  sides,  and  pages  guarded  the  en- 
trance to  the  ring. 

Another  burst  of  trumpets,  a  cry  of  welcome  from  the 
crowd,  and  with  one  spring  the  graceful  equestrienne 
was  in  the  middle  of  the  dazzled  crowd  of  admirers. 
Her  horse,  as  if  cast  in  bronze,  stood  perfectly  immova- 
ble with  his  beautiful  burden,  who  looked  like  a  statue, 
so  set  was  each  feature.  In  the  boxes  the  young  men 
stood  up  and  swayed  with  eagerness  to  catch  sight  of 
such  marvellous  grace  and  beauty. 

Her  fiery  horse  reared  so  erect  that  it  seemed  impos- 
sible for  the  rider  to  maintain  her  seat,  but  at  the  sound 
of  the  soft  music  he  regained  his  feet,  and  went  through 
evolution  after  evolution,  until  bravos  rent  the  air. 
The  oldest  and  most  critical  judges  could  find  no  words 
to  express  their  admiration  of  such  feats  of  equestrian- 
ism. The  music  grew  quicker  and  quicker  ;  the  horse, 
as  if  inspired  by  the  general  enthusiasm,  with  one  wild 
neigh  leaped  the  ribbons  and  disappeared.  The  eye  of 
the  rider  had  alone  remained  unmoved  ;  not  a  spark  of 
pleasure  nor  of  gratified  pride  had  lighted  it  ;  no  an- 
swering look  recognized  the  applause  of  the  crowd  ;  she 
appeared  conscious  only  of  her  horse. 

Such  cheering  had  not  been  heard  for  years,  and  it 
was  with  reason  that  Landolfo  rubbed  his  hands  over 
the  success  of  his  suggestion.  Hundreds  of  voices 
called  for  the  beautiful  debutante^  but  her  father  in  trem- 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  193 

bling  voice  thanked  the  audience,  and  announced  that 
the  excitement  of  her  first  appearance  was  so  great  that 
it  would  be  impossible  for  his  daughter  to  come  out  to 
greet  them. 

Nora's  success  was  secured  ;  but  while  her  name  was 
on  every  lip,  and  "the  rising  star"  was  toasted  over 
many  a  sparkling  glass,  she  lay  pale  and  motionless 
upon  her  bed,  too  exhausted  for  even  sorrow.  There 
was  but  one  visible  to  her  mind's  eye  ;  one  in  whose 
opinion  the  events  of  the  evening  would  leave  her  for- 
ever branded  ;  one  from  whose  circle  she  was  now  for- 
ever excluded.  The  nervous  chill  returned,  and  the 
swollen  lids  refused  to  close. 

Mechanically  she  sought  for  the  letter  of  her  true 
friend,  and  read  the  following  sympathetic  words  : 

"  My  child,  the  Loid  has  indeed  seen  fit  to  lead  you 
by  strange  paths.  A  pure  intention  sanctifies  much, 
and  sacrifice  excuses  all.  This  is  my  only  explanation 
for  your  decision.  Perhaps  it  is  destined  that  you  shall 
do  more  good  in  this  dangerous  career  than  in  that 
which  seemed  to  us  safer.  Child  of  my  heart, 
whatever  you  do,  you  are  dearer  to  me  than  ever. 
Let  the  tie  of  sincere  love  bind  us.  In  thought  I 
shall  follow  you,  and  pray  God  to  protect  and  guide 
3^ou." 

Yes,  friendship  crossed  the  barrier  which  drove  love 
back.  Again  and  again  Nora  read  the  sentence,  "  A 
pure  intention  sanctifies  much  ;  sacrifice  excuses  all." 
The  last  thought  before  sleep  came  to  her  relief  was, 
"  Will  Curt  think  so,  and  not  despise  me  ?     Oh,  he  shall 


194  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

see  that  I  shall  not  sink  even  on  this  dangerous  path  ! 
His  love  shall  save  me  from  that." 

While  these  occurrences  were  taking  place,  Curt  v^as 
enjoying  the  pleasures  of  his  surroundings.  Since  his 
heart  had  been  set  at  ease  and  his  resolution  strength- 
ened, he  had  recovered  all  his  natural  elasticity  of  spirit. 
He  was  young,  and  so  confident  of  his  own  and  Nora's 
love,  that  the  time  of  their  separation  seemed  nothing. 
When  it  was  passed  and  she  should  be  his,  he  would, 
he  thought,  retain  his  foreign  appointment  for  some 
years,  in  order  to  save  her  from  any  possible  annoyances 
at  home.  Then,  improved  by  experience,  they  would 
return  and  together  take  up  their  domestic  duties.  The 
picture  which  he  drew  of  his  future  was  so  simple  and 
so  sweet  that  he  loved  to  dwell  upon  it.  He  was  better 
calculated  for  a  life  of  action,  he  considered,  than  for 
the  narrow  routine  of  a  country  life.  Unconsciously 
his  love  for  Nora  had  opened  for  him  a  freer  life.  For 
the  present  he  determined  to  direct  all  his  energies  to 
studying  the  people  of  the  East,  and  so  far  as  possible  to 
visit  the  places  sacred  to  science  and  religion,  which  some- 
times took  him  away  from  his  post  for  weeks  at  a  time. 

It  was  on  his  return  from  one  of  these  trips  that  his 
chief  handed  him  a  packet  which  had  come  during  his 
absence.  "  A  goodly  volume,"  said  the  old  gentle- 
man, handing  him  the  letter  addressed  in  his  mother's 
handwriting.  "  Well,  well,  the  young  rejoice  in  such 
arrivals,  while  the  old  fear  them  ;  there  is  so  little  left 
of  good  for  us  in  the  world.  Go,  read  your  domestic 
chronicle." 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  I95 

As  Curt  went  out  he  met  a  young  colleague  attached 
to  the  French  Legation,  who  accompanied  him  to  his 
apartment.  With  true  French  liveliness  the  latter  talked 
on,  so  that  he  did  not  remark  the  preoccupation  of  Curt, 
who  was  not  without  anxiety  at  the'  sight  of  so  volu- 
minous a  correspondence. 

When  he  reached  his  rooms.  Curt  threw  the  package 
on  the  table,  and  the  young  Frenchman  remarked  with 
tact,  "  Oh,  a  letter  from  home.  I  should  not  have  in- 
truded on  you,  count.  I  beg  you  will  satisfy  your  curi- 
osity while  I  amuse  myself  in  your  conservatory.  I  am 
something  of  a  botanist."  He  stepped  into  the  enclo- 
sure which  is  such  an  agreeable  feature  of  the  houses 
in  Pera,  where  flowering  plants  and  miniature  fountains 
make  up  for  the  close,  dirty  streets. 

"  My  mother  seems  to  be  turning  editor,"  replied 
Curt,  in  a  gay  voice.  "  Pray  make  yourself  at  home, 
dear  count.  Why,  the  package  seems  to  contain  only 
newspaper  clippings.  Take  a  cigar,  while  I  look  over 
them." 

The  count  did  not  come  in  at  once,  for  he  was  busy 
examining  a  floral  specimen  which  was  new  to  him.  A 
noise  in  the  room  attracting  him,  he  looked  through 
the  glass  doors,  and  saw  Curt  bowed  over  the  table,  with 
his  head  sunken  on  his  outstretched  arms.  The  open 
letter  lay  at  his  feet,  but  his  hand  grasped  one  of  the 
advertisements. 

"  In  the  name  of  God,  count,  what  ails  you  ?"  ex- 
claimed his  friend,  springing  toward  him. 

A    moan    was    Curt's    only  reply,  and  his   head    was 


196  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

SO  buried  in  his  hands  that  his  face  could  not  be 
seen. 

"  Count,  count  !"  called  the  Frenchman  kindly,  "  I 
beg  of  you  to  compose  yourself.  Have  you  received 
bad  news  ?     Are  you  sick  ?     Shall  I  call  the  servant  ?" 

Curt  stretched  out  his  hands,  as  if  to  prevent  any  one 
approaching,  and  said,  "  Only  a  headache  ;  a  little 
dizzy.     Give  me  water." 

His  friend  hastened  out  and  dipped  his  handkerchief 
in  the  fountain,  to  place  it  on  Curt's  head.  He  was  but 
a  minute  out  of  the  room,  but  when  he  returned  all  the 
printed  notices  had  disappeared. 

"  It  was  a  terrible  pain  that  seized  me,"  explained 
Curt,  as  he  still  held  his  head  between  his  hands,  while 
the  other  laid  the  cool,  damp  cloth  on  his  temples. 
"  The  fatigue  of  my  trip  must  have  been  too  much  for 
me." 

The  polite  Frenchman  did  not  contradict,  but  he 
could  not  help  thinking  that  his  friend  did  not  look  at 
all  tired  on  his  return,  and  secretly  concluded  that  his 
emotion  must  have  been  produced  by  some  unpleasant 
news.  However,  it  was  evident  that  he  wished  it  to  re- 
main a  secret,  and  the  Frenchman  was  far  too  discreet 
to  pursue  the  subject,  and  merely  said,  "  Your  fore- 
head burns.  I  would  advise  you  to  retire  and  send  for 
the  doctor.  One  cannot  trifle  with  such  attacks  in  this 
climate." 

"  I  think  I  am  better,"  said  Curt  wearily.  "  These 
climatic  fevers  make  one  delirious,  do  they  not  ?" 

"That    depends,"    replied   the   Frenchman,   smiling; 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  197 

"  but  I  trust  it  will  not  come  to  that,  if  you  are  pru- 
dent." 

"  Perhaps  a  fit  of  fever  might  do  me  good,"  said 
Curt,  as  if  speaking  to  himself.  "  Sometimes  a  man  is 
delirious  most  of  his  life.  Forgive  me,  my  dear  fellow, 
I  am  such  poor  company.  A  doctor,  you  say  ?  No, 
I  think  not ;  but  keep  visitors  away.  I  hate  visitors  when 
I  am  sick." 

"  Just  as  you  like,  you  unsociable  German  ;  but  you 
must  allow  me  to  send  for  a  doctor,  and  your  edict 
against  visitors  must  not  include  me,  mon  aniiy 

The  Frenchman  had  chatted  on,  but  he  was  not  at  all 
sure  that  he  was  understood,  for  Curt's  eyes  looked  at 
him  absently,  and  his  thoughts  were  evidently  far  away. 
The  Frenchman  took  up  his  hat  in  order  to  go  for  a 
doctor,  but  he  had  hardly  reached  the  street  when  he 
heard  his  name  called.  He  looked  back,  and  saw  Curt 
following  him  with  tottering  steps  and  holding  a  letter 
in  his  hand. 

"  Dear  friend,"  he  said  hurriedly,  "  do  me  a  favor. 
This  letter  must  go  by  return  mail.  It  is — it  is  to  my 
cousin.  By  some  mistake  it  was  sent  here.  It  must  be 
returned." 

Curt  handed  him  the  letter,  with  the  word  returned 
written  in  large  letters. 

His  friend  promised  to  see  to  it,  and  noticing  Curt's 
excitement,  begged  permission  to  accompany  him  back, 
which  the  latter  declined  positively.  He  looked  after 
the  sick  man  anxiously,  and  seeing  that  the  letter  was 
directed  to  Curt  in  a  female  hand,  he  shook  his  head. 


IQO  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER   S    DAUGHTER. 

saying,  "  If  a  woman  is  not  at  the  root  of  it,  I  am  mis- 
taken. The  letter  has  not  been  opened.  A  man  should 
never  act  when  under  excitement.  Probably  one  of 
these  days  the  count  would  give  a  good  deal  to  have 
read  this  ;  but  these  Germans  are  obstinate  ;  we  must 
do  as  he  says.  Oh,  woman,  woman,  there  is  no  evil 
but  you  have  a  finger  in  it  !"  Saying  this,  the  young 
man  sighed,  as  if  he  had  some  experience. 

Nora  waited  longingly  for  an  answer  to  her  letter, 
which  was  for  weeks  in  the  hands  of  the  countess,  for 
which  cruelty  the  latter  was  destined  to  suffer  much. 
Day  by  day  she  waited  to  hear  from  her  son,  but  time 
went  by  and  no  news  came.  She  wrote  again  and  again, 
she  wearied  herself  with  conjectures.  Perhaps  she 
ought  to  have  been  more  sympathetic,  and  prepared  him 
for  the  disappointment.  Had  she  undervalued  the 
depth  of  his  love  ?  She  would  not  harbor  the  possi- 
bility of  his  standing  by  Nora  and  one  day  bringing  her 
home  as  his  wife.  The  suspense  had  become  almost 
unbearable,  when  a  letter  came,  not  from  her  son,  but 
from  his  chief.  That  gentleman  informed  the  mother 
in  the  gentlest  way  of  the  illness  of  her  son.  He  at- 
tributed the  attack  to  over-fatigue  in  the  journeys  which 
Curt  had  made  into  the  interior  ;  but  the  mother,  in 
comparing  the  dates  of  her  letter  and  the  beginning 
of  the  illness,  was  at  no  loss  to  find  the  probable 
cause. 

Her  first  impulse  was  to  go  to  her  son,  but  the  writer 
expressed  Curt's  unwillingness  to  see  her,  and  the  doc- 
tor's opinion  of  the  result  of  such  a  meeting  deterred 


THE     CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  I99 

her.  She  could  judge  from  her  own  feelings  what  would 
be  the  consequences  of  their  coming  together. 

The  kind-hearted  Frenchman,  who  had  installed  him- 
self as  Curt's  nurse,  sent  weekly  bulletins  to  the  coun- 
tess, but  for  a  long  time  no  chance  of  recovery  appeared. 
The  fever  was  followed  by  a  mental  apathy  ;  he  suffered 
no  pain,  uttered  no  complaint,  never  mentioned  any 
name,  and  seemed  in  constant  dread  of  news  from  home. 

The  first  physicians  were  called  ;  they  all  recommend- 
ed change  of  air  ;  but  the  bodily  weakness  of  the  patient 
made  a  journey  impossible.  It  seemed  as  if  all  mental 
and  physical  power  was  completely  paralyzed. 

"  The  climate  did  not  agree  with  him,"  was  the  uni- 
versal verdict  of  the  crowds  who  came  to  offer  their 
sympathy  to  his  mother,  and  the  countess  could  see  in 
each  countenance  the  question.  What  was  the  reason 
for  exposing  him  to  such  danger  ?  She  accepted  the 
expressed  sympathy  and  implied  reproach  with  equal 
coldness.  No  one  would  have  known  the  tortures  she 
suffered  were  it  not  for  the  bent  figure  and  the  sud- 
denly silvered  hair. 

The  summer  was  at  its  height  when  the  news  came 
that  Curt  could  travel.  The  mother's  heart  beat  with 
hope,  and  yet  no  letter  came  from  her  child.  It  was 
the  French  friend  who  always,  in  the  most  amiable  and 
respectful  words,  wrote  that  her  son  was  not  strong 
enough  to  write  ;  that  he  had,  however,  decided  to 
travel,  hoping  much  from  entire  change  of  scene.  He 
purposed  going  first  to  Greece,  then  to  Sicily,  and  the 
winter  would  be  passed  in  the  South  of  France.      "  AI- 


20O  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

ways  approaching  his  country  and  the  heart  of  his 
mother,"  the  Frenchman  added  with  national  tact.  A 
list  of  cities  where  money  could  be  sent  to  him  was 
appended. 

As  the  countess  read  this  last  letter,  burning  tears 
coursed  down  her  cheeks.  A  sharp  pain  stung  her  to 
the  heart  as  she  thought  that  this  was  all  the  return  she 
had  for  years  of  devotion,  and  unconsciously  the  words 
of  the  nun  of  Brussels  came  to  her,  "  You  may  lose  a 
son  instead  of  gaining  a  daughter." 

She  was  not  a  woman,  however,  to  allow  herself  to 
be  mastered  by  such  feelings.  She  had  acted  accord- 
ing to  her  principles,  and  looked  on  the  result  as  a  con- 
sequence which  must  be  borne.  "  He  will  get  over  it," 
she  said  to  herself.  "  His  good  constitution  will  con- 
quer," she  said  to  others  ;  and  with  these  words  she 
silenced  all  curiosity  and  sympathy. 

She  spoke  to  no  one  of  her  son's  sickness,  not  even 
to  her  true  friend,  the  chaplain,  who  was  one  of  the 
family.  In  a  few  words  she  had  mentioned  to  him 
Nora's  appearing  in  public,  and  as,  to  his  great  sorrow, 
he  knew  only  what  was  known  from  the  newspapers,  he 
could  not  account  for  the  change  of  circumstances. 

About  this  time  the  Superioress  of  the  convent  of 
Brussels  wrote  to  the  countess  as  follows  : 

"  I  have  a  word  of  explanation  to  give  you  with  re- 
gard to  her  who  might  have  come  so  near  to  you  had 
not  unfortunate  circumstances  so  changed  the  dear 
child's  career.  She  has  made  an  unheard-of  sacrifice  to 
filial  duty,  and  God  will  guide  and  protect  her.     Judge 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  20I 

her  not.  In  the  cause  of  truth  I  say  this  to  you,  and 
charge  you  to  repeat  it  to  your  son.  The  knowledge 
that  he  did  not  bestow  his  love  on  an  unworthy  object 
will  be  some  consolation  to  him  in  the  trial  he  has  suf- 
fered. God  in  His  wisdom  has  decreed  this,  but  the 
two  young  hearts  have  a  bitter  chalice  to  drink  to  the 
dregs." 

The  countess  threw  the  letter  angrily  aside,  saying, 
"  The  amiable  Sybille  has  had  her  head  turned  by  her 
infatuation  for  this  girl.  To  bring  him  back  to  such 
thoughts  now  would  be  madness.  It  is  really  wonder- 
ful how  seclusion  from  the  world  will  make  so  sensible 
a  woman  as  Sybille  so  unpractical.     All  romance  !" 

The  countess  herself  was  so  practical  that  she  took 
care  to  throw  the  letter  into  the  fire — the  only  means 
that  remained  to  her  by  which  she  could  have  regained 
the  way  to  her  son's  heart. 


THE     circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

YEARS  had  passed,  and  brought  their  changes. 
Even  Lily,  with  her  rosy,  chubby  face  was  con- 
scious of  them,  for  she  was  now  of  age  and  mistress  of 
her  own  fortune.  Until  now  she  had  been  under  the 
care  of  her  aunt,  who  never  suspected  that  she  would 
ever  wish  to  leave  it  until  she  changed  it  for  a  protector 
for  life.  So  far  the  heiress  had  turned  a  deaf  ear  to  all 
suitors,  much  to  the  delight  of  her  aunt,  whose  early 
hopes  with  regard  to  her  son  and  niece  were  renewed 
by  the  late  change  in  Nora's  career.  Her  astonishment, 
therefore,  was  great  when  Lily  announced  her  deter- 
mination to  place  herself  under  the  chaperonage  of  an 
aged  relative,  and  to  reside  on  her  own  property,  which 
was  situated  near  Vienna,  at  least  a  day's  journey  from 
the  Degenthal  possessions. 

The  countess  sought  in  vain  to  discover  what  impelled 
Lily  to  this  decision,  but  she  did  not  offer  any  remon- 
strance, the  latter  being  one  of  those  quiet  characters 
who  never  make  a  move  until  their  right  to  do  so  is  un- 
questionable, and  then  they  rarely  change  their  minds. 

Since  her  cousin's  sudden  journey  she  had  harbored 
a  certain  grudge  against  her  aunt  ;  not  that  she  exactly 
held  her  responsible  for  it,  as  she  knew  his  desire  to 
enter  the  diplomatic  service,  but  she  had  an  unaccount- 
able suspicion   that  the  countess  had  for  some   reason 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  203 

wished  Curt  to  leave  home,  and  that  he  had  not  been 
happy.  Lily  was  not  remarkable  for  great  or  deep 
powers  of  thought,  but  with  such  superficial  characters 
it  is  often  found  that  they  are  very  tenacious  of  a  con- 
clusion once  reached.  From  early  childhood  she  had 
looked  on  Curt  as  her  own  property,  and  when  she  un- 
willingly thought  of  his  coldness  and  indifference  toward 
her,  the  remembrance  of  the  pleasure  he  took  in  her 
conversation  that  last  evening  consoled  her,  and  she 
felt  that  she  loved  him  enough  to  wait.  She  was  one 
of  those  beings  who  are  at  their  best  in  their  own  homes, 
and  she  felt  instinctively  that  she  and  her  cousin  would 
be  more  to  each  other  at  her  own  fireside. 

Notwithstanding  her  youth,  Lily  had  a  great  deal  of 
independence,  and  a  well-regulated  idea  of  the  propri- 
eties of  her  position.  All  that  was  beyond  her  capacity 
in  the  management  of  her  business  she  left  to  wiser 
heads  ;  her  domestic  affairs,  her  garden,  her  poultry, 
and  her  poor  occupied  her,  and  in  this  circle  of  duties 
all  was  well  organized.  If  she  was  a  trifle  narrow,  it 
was  ascribed  to  her  youth. 

As  was  said  before,  young  men  did  not  find  her  very 
attractive,  but  their  elders  pronounced  her  a  sensible 
girl  who  would  make  a  sensible  woman.  Young  girls 
did  not  understand  her,  but  wise  mammas  looked  on 
the  quiet  little  blonde  as  the  perfection  of  a  daughter- 
in-law  ;  a  mistake  into  which  many  mothers  fall  in 
selecting  these  quiet,  obstinate  materials  as  being  easily 
managed. 

For  once  the  undemonstrative  little  heiress  was  ex- 


204  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

cited  until  the  blood  rose  to  the  very  roots  of  her  hair. 
A  letter  from  her  aunt  hinted  at  the  possibility  of  a  visit 
from  Curt,  who  had  at  last  turned  his  face  homeward, 
and  intended  to  stop  to  see  his  cousin,  as  her  house  lay 
on  his  way.  Lily's  pale  blue  eyes  almost  shone,  and  as 
the  proposed  visit  would  probably  occur  within  a  few 
days,  the  housekeeper  was  surprised  at  receiving  so 
many  instructions  in  regard  to  preparations  which  had 
never  been  considered  necessary  for  other  guests. 

Notwithstanding  the  protestations  of  her  chaperon, 
who  was  a  lady  of  old-time  prejudices,  the  pony  chaise 
was  sent  to  the  railroad  station  each  day,  as  "  My 
Cousin  Curt  might  arrive." 

And  how  had  time  passed  with  "  Cousin  Curt"  since 
the  day  on  which  the  contents  of  that  package  sent  by 
his  mother  had  robbed  him  of  all  belief  in  love  and 
truth,  and  dealt  a  death-blow  to  his  life's  happiness  ? 

He  never  could  clearly  recall  his  own  feelings  when 
his  eye  fell  on  that  terrible  poster  ;  he  only  remembered 
a  bewildering  storm  which  threatened  his  reason  and 
seemed  to  precipitate  him  into  a  fathomless  abyss.  The 
depths  of  indignation,  contempt,  and  wounded  pride 
enveloped  him.  When  he  tried  to  doubt  his  senses, 
those  flaming  letters  stood  out  in  such  fearful  reality 
that  when  he  found  himself  alone  a  piercing  cry  burst 
from  his  broken  heart.  No  sooner  had  his  friend  left 
him  than  he  looked  with  feverish  impatience  for  his 
mother's  letter,  and  when  the  facts  were  burned  into 
his  brain,  his  first  care  was  to  destroy  all  evidence  of 
his    mortification    and    disappointment,    which    would 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  205 

bring  upon  him  the  derision  of  all  his  acquaintances. 
When  he  saw  Nora's  well-remembered  handwriting,  his 
first  impulse  was  to  destroy  it  ;  then  a  second  thought 
suggested  that  a  sweeter  revenge  would  be  to  return 
the  letter  to  her  unopened. 

This  was  the  last  act  of  which  he  had  any  remem- 
brance. On  the  doctor's  arrival  he  found  Curt  lying  on 
the  floor  entirely  unconscious,  and  for  weeks  he  re- 
mained delirious.  As  the  fever  abated  a  general  paral- 
ysis set  in,  and  in  the  long  hours  of  helplessness  he  lived 
in  the  past.  At  times  it  all  seemed  a  dreadful  night- 
mare from  which  he  must  awaken,  or  a  creation  of  his 
delirium  which  must  disappear  ;  but  no  question  passed 
his  lips,  and  in  the  secret  of  his  soul  he  tried  to  solve 
the  problem.  He  had  such  a  morbid  dread  of  knowing 
the  truth,  that  he  shrank  from  receiving  any  home  news. 
This  condition  so  puzzled  the  physicians  that  they 
sought  in  every  way  to  find  out  the  cause  of  the  trouble 
which  was  apparently  preying  on  his  mind,  but  all  in 
vain. 

A  couple  of  months  after  he  had  been  attacked  his 
friend,  in  order  to  amuse  him,  got  in  the  habit  of  bring- 
ing him  some  of  those  illustrated  papers  which  give 
such  good  pictures  of  all  that  is  of  passing  interest, 
from  the  doings  of  crowned  heads  to  the  feats  of  crowned 
oxen.  They  occasionally  provoked  a  faint  smile  from 
the  invalid,  until  one  number  came  that  was  full  of  the 
wonderful  equestrienne  who  had  lately  appeared.  His 
friend  was  delighted  to  see  Curt's  curiosity  so  aroused 
as  to  make  him  stretch  out  his  hand  for  the  paper.     He 


2o6  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

looked  for  some  minutes  at  the  illustration,  then  he 
suddenly  turned  away  his  face,  his  head  sank  back,  and 
the  wild  delirium  returned  to  his  eye. 

"  So  weary,"  groaned  Curt  ;  and  that  night  he  had 
a  relapse  from  which  it  was  more  difficult  to  recover 
than  from  the  original  sickness,  for  it  seemed  even  after 
his  youth  and  good  constitution  had  seconded  the  clev- 
erest medical  care,  a  lethargy  set  in  from  which  it  was 
impossible  to  rouse  him.  No  doubt  now  remained. 
All  was  but  too  true  ;  she  for  whom  he  was  willing  to 
sacrifice  all  had  trampled  his  feelings  in  the  dust. 

As  a  last  resource,  the  physicians  insisted  on  change 
of  air  and  scene.  "  Anywhere,  anywhere  but  home," 
Curt  answered  to  their  advice.  That  air,  it  seemed  to 
him,  would  suffocate  him.  He  did  not  hold  his  mother 
responsible  for  his  unhappiness,  but  we  are  apt  to  turn 
from  the  hand  which  was  the  instrument  of  letting  us 
know  of  our  ill-luck.  He  could  not  but  fancy  that  she 
would  rejoice.  She  had  prophesied  how  it  would  be  ; 
and  we  are  not  drawn  to  the  foreseers  of  ill  when  their 
words  are  verified.  He  wandered  from  place  to  place. 
A  stronger  character  would  perhaps  have  sought  dis- 
traction in  the  struggle  and  strife  of  life  ;  but  his  love 
gone,  all  was  void  to  him.  Necessity  of  action  is  the 
only  saving  to  such  natures  in  such  trials,  and  Curt 
was  not  forced  to  this,  so  a  morbid  lethargy  completely 
mastered  him. 

At  the  end  of  three  years  he  complied  with  his 
mother's  repeated  requests  to  come  home.  The  express 
train  from  Paris  to  Vienna  makes  as  few  and  short  stops 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  207 

as  possible.  One  evening,  at  one  of  the  intervening 
stations,  a  young  man  with  the  unruffled  manner  of  a 
habitual  traveller  stepped  up  to  the  guard  of  this  train 
and  asked  him  for  a  first-class  coupe.  The  obsequious 
official  opened  a  door,  and  on  the  traveller  begging  for 
a  compartment  to  himself,  he  shrugged  his  shoulders, 
merely  saying,  "All  the  others  are  even  fuller;"  the 
young  man  entered  and  found  two  female  passengers 
already  installed.  The  elder,  judging  from  her  dress, 
was  a  maid  ;  she  was  fast  asleep,  and  snoring  most 
comfortably.  The  other,  owing  to  the  waning  daylight 
and  her  sitting  in  the  farthest  corner,  he  could  not  well 
see,  but  he  remarked  that  she  was  surrounded  by  those 
dainty  comforts  which  bespeak  the  lady.  From  time 
to  time  she  bent  her  veiled  head  forward,  as  if  to  catch 
a  glimpse  of  the  passing  scenery. 

Notwithstanding  his  apparent  fatigue  and  blase  man- 
ner, the  young  man  seemed  unconsciously  drawn  to  look 
toward  his  opposite  neighbor  with  some  curiosity. 

All  being  in  readiness,  the  shrill  whistle  announced 
the  start,  the  engine  sent  forth  a  volume  of  smoke,  the 
steam  whizzed  and  fizzed,  and  the  mammoth  train 
once  more  flew  on — on  by  wood  and  meadow  ;  on  by 
hamlet  and  village  ;  over  hills  and  rocks  ;  on,  on,  as 
though  seconds  were  lives,  as  though  there  were  no 
time  to  lose  on  the  beauties  of  nature. 

At  length  a  halt  ;  the  guard  called  the  name  of  a  uni- 
versity town  ;  the  old  servant  slept  on,  but  the  other 
two  occupants  of  the  coupe,  as  if  awakened  from  the 
dead,  started  to  their  feet  and  stood  facing  each  other 


2o8  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

in  the  narrow  passage  ;  eye  met  eye  ;  the  hands  were 
instinctively  outstretched  but  quickly  withdrawn  ;  the 
blood  rushed  to  their  cheeks  and  temples  ;  words  seemed 
ready  to  pass  the  parted  lips  ;  but  no,  dark  clouds  ho- 
vered over,  and  the  sunshine  of  impulse  was  obscured  ; 
both  sank  into  their  seats  and  were  strangers  once  more. 

Again  the  express  flew  on,  cheered  by  the  hochs  of  a 
party  of  students,  but  leaving  behind  it  a  grave  of  dead 
youth.  Neither  of  the  travellers  again  looked  toward 
the  other  ;  on  the  contrary,  their  faces  were  steadfastly 
turned  to  their  respective  windows,  and  their  eyes  wan- 
dered far,  far  away.  Gone,  gone  was  their  happiness  ; 
gone  like  the  passing  scenes,  gone  like  the  curling 
smoke.  They  could  not  command  their  thoughts,  for 
their  brains  were  burning,  and  their  hearts  seemed  un- 
able to  restrain  cries  of  agony  as  the  cold,  clear  moon 
lit  up  the  hill-tops  and  the  stream  they  both  knew  so 
well. 

Burning  tears  rose  to  the  young  girl's  eyes,  and  a 
deep  longing  so  possessed  her  that  she  looked  across,  as 
if  so  deep  a  feeling  must  be  reciprocated  ;  but  the  young 
man  was  as  erect  as  a  marble  statue,  and  looked  per- 
sistently into  the  night.  This  froze  her  to  the  soul  ;  the 
returned,  unopened  letter  stood  out  before  her,  and  a 
wall  of  adamant  seemed  to  rise  between  them. 

And  he — what  were  his  thoughts  ?  Did  not  remem- 
brance bring  back  that  long  railroad  ride  when  he 
laughed  at  distance  and  counted  the  moments  until  he 
saw  her  who  now  was  before  him  ?  when  he  thought  no 
effort  too  great  in  order  to  spend  a  few  hours  in  her 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  209 

company  ?  She  whom  he  then  sought  now  sits  before 
him  ;  he  can  hear  her  breathe  and  feel  the  slight  move- 
ments of  her  figure.  What  would  he  not  then  have 
given  for  such  moments  !  and  now  she  has  no  charms 
for  him.  As  if  impelled  by  some  inner  force,  he  looked 
around.  Yes,  there  are  the  delicate  features,  the  long 
black  lashes,  the  full  lips,  the  broad  forehead,  and  the 
waving  hair,  all  more  beautiful  than  ever,  and  yet  he 
turns  away  ! 

Where  had  he  last  seen  that  face  ?  Oh,  horror  !  in  a 
newspaper  that  called  all  to  come  and  look  on  the  beau- 
tiful circus-rider.  He  closed  his  eyes  in  order  to  shut 
out  the  sight. 

On  goes  the  train  until  the  level  plains  are  regained. 
The  romantic  hills  have  vanished  like  the  romance  of 
their  lives  ;  God  help  them  !  Will  life  be  as  monot- 
onous for  them  as  this  flat  country  lying  in  the  melan- 
choly gray  of  the  early  morning  ? 

On,  on,  hour  follows  hour,  and  still  they  are  in  mo- 
tion not  more  bewildering  than  their  thoughts,  where 
question  and  prayer  and  yearning  remain  unanswered. 
Suddenly  the  shrill  whistle  announces  their  arrival  at  a 
well-known  town  in  Southern  Germany.  The  maid 
awakes,  and  in  an  excited  manner  collects  all  the  pack- 
ages ready  to  leave  the  train.  Nora  (for  it  is  she)  moves 
mechanically  ;  it  is  necessary  to  pass  him.  For  a  mo- 
ment her  eyes  rest  on  him,  not  startled  as  before,  but 
in  quiet  despair.  A  softening  sorrow  seems  to  steal  on 
him  as  he  looks  furtively  on  the  pale,  sad  face  ;  he  half 
stretches  out  his  hand  to  help  her,  but  at  the  same  mo- 


2IO  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

ment  a  gentleman  enters  the  coupe  and  gives  her  a  cor- 
dial welcome.  With  a  slight  inclination  of  the  head  she 
left,  and  entered  a  carriage  which  was  waiting. 

Curt  looked  after  them  as  if  gazing  on  a  spirit.  The 
guard  entered,  and  in  a  loquacious  manner  said, 
"  Surely  his  highness  could  not  find  fault  with  the  com- 
pany I  gave  him.  The  lady  is  well  known  here  ;  she  is 
the  great  rider,  the  daughter  of  the  renowned  Karsten, 
who  arrived  the  day  before  yesterday  in  a  special  train. 
Will  your  highness  not  take  a  cup  of  coffee  ?  The  morn- 
ing air  is  cold,"  he  added,  as  he  noticed  Curt's  pale 
face. 

Curt  felt  chilled  in  every  limb,  but  he  turned  away 
and  did  not  make  any  answer,  so  the  guard  was  de- 
terred from  further  conversation,  and  went  to  seek  some 
more  social  traveller. 

Curt  is  alone  in  the  empty  coupe.  She  who  had  been 
with  him  for  so  many  hours  is  gone.  The  opportunity 
is  lost,  the  opportunity  which  perhaps  had  been  vouch- 
safed him  by  a  kind  Providence  to  have  all  explained. 
The  word  remained  unspoken,  the  tongue  paralyzed, 
the  lips  closed. 

"  Nora  !  Nora  !"  he  cried,  with  his  hands  covering 
his  face.  All  the  old  wounds  reopened,  and  all  the  old 
love  sprang  to  life.  "  Nora,  Nora,  why  did  I  not 
speak  ?' ' 

The  sun  was  high  in  the  heavens  when  he  arrived  at 
his  destination.  The  liveried  groom  had  recognized 
him,  and  stood,  hat  in  hand,  to  tell  him  that  the  carriage 
was  waiting  for  him.     The  equipage  was   perfectly  ap- 


THE    CIRCUS  RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  211 

pointed,  and  the  ponies  tossed  their  heads  high,  as  if 
conscious  of  the  admiration  they  excited.  But  all  this 
was  lost  on  the  weary  traveller,  who  threw  himself  care- 
lessly into  the  vehicle,  and  closing  his  eyes,  did  not  see 
the  handsome  avenue  that  he  entered  or  the  palatial 
house  he  approached. 

At  least  ten  times  that  day  Lily  had  asked  herself, 
"Will  he  come?"  and  gone  to  the  window  to  see  if 
there  was  any  sign  of  her  cousin's  arrival.  At  length 
the  tramp  of  the  horses'  feet  on  the  bridge  announced 
the  approach  of  the  expected  guest.  Lily  hastened  to 
the  drawing-room  to  receive  her  cousin  with  all  due 
ceremony,  and  waited  for  him  with  mingled  feelings  of 
joy  and  timidity. 

The  groom  came  in  to  say  that  the  count  begged  to 
be  excused  ;  he  had  retired  to  his  room,  and  found  it 
impossible  to  appear  after  so  long  and  fatiguing  a  jour- 
ney, but  he  would  try  to  be  down  in  an  hour. 

Lily's  bright  look  disappeared.  Joy,  particularly  the 
joy  of  being  reunited,  is  quickly  chilled  by  delay. 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

"  ''  I  ^HAT  was  a  quiet  journey,"  remarked  old  Anne 
-^  as  she  rubbed  her  sleepy  eyes  and  took  a  seat 
by  her  young  mistress  in  the  carriage.  Old  Anne  had 
remained  faithful  to  the  director's  family,  and  was  now 
Nora's  special  attendant.  "  Nora,  my  baby,  I  believe 
you  are  chilled,"  she  said,  as  she  pulled  the  travelling 
rug  closer  around  her  charge.  "  This  comes  from  this 
night  travelling,  and  running  round  the  world  is  not 
good  for  either  young  or  old  bones." 

The  carriage  drew  up  before  one  of  the  first  hotels, 
and  the  person  who  had  met  them  at  the  station  again 
appeared  and  said,  "  The  director  arrived  yesterday 
evening  ;  everything  is  arranged  for  the  morning  after 
next  if  you  are  not  too  fatigued,  miss." 

Nora  did  not  seem  to  hear  him,  and  went  upstairs 
without  taking  further  notice  of  him. 

"  Very  ungracious,"  muttered  Landolfo,  "  complete- 
ly spoiled  ;  that  will  soon  be  cured,  my  pretty  one. 
If  I  do  not  mistake,  that  was  Count  Degenthal  who 
looked  out  of  the  coupe.  I  hope  it  was  not  a  rendez- 
vous. However,  it  does  not  matter  ;  we  have  seen  to 
it  ;  that  is  all  spoiled  for  la  hella  Donna.  Perhaps  that 
was  the  cause  of  her  ladyship's  haughtiness  ;  there  will 
soon  come  a  day  of  reckoning,"  he  added,  with  a  spite- 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  213 

ful  sneer,  as  he  entered  the  restaurant  of  the  hotel  to 
drown  his  resentment  in  some  choice  liqueur. 

Old  Anne,  as  she  had  many  a  time  done  for  her 
mother,  now  put  Nora's  room  in  order,  darkened  the 
windows,  smoothed  the  pillows,  and  laid  out  her  dear 
charge's  soft  wrapper,  that  she  might  get  some  rest  after 
her  weary  night's  travel.  Nora  passively  allowed  her- 
self to  be  waited  on,  and  lay  down  perfectly  silent.  The 
old  woman  shook  her  head,  and  muttered,  "  This  rest- 
less life  is  bringing  her  just  where  her  mother  was.  She 
will  end  like  her  mother,  if  she  was  ten  times  as  strong, 
my  poor  miss." 

Nora  was  left  alone  to  get  some  rest,  but  it  would  not 
come.  Everything  seemed  to  move  and  rush  and  whiz, 
and  there  opposite  to  her  she  saw  Curt,  sitting  still  and 
cold.  It  was  a  stormy  night  just  three  years  ago  that 
she  sought  rest  after  her  first  appearance  in  public,  en 
tirely  overcome,  as  she  was  to-night,  by  mental  and 
physical  excitement.  Her  profession  had  since  taken 
her  into  every  country  in  Europe  Landolfo's  anticipa- 
tions were  more  than  realized  with  regard  to  her  suc- 
cess. Her  beauty  and  dexterity  had  more  than  restored 
all  the  old  glory  of  Karsten's  circus.  Nora's  name 
always  filled  the  largest  houses.  Her  father  had  left 
nothing  undone  to  save  her  feelings.  She  never  mixed 
with  the  other  members  of  the  troupe  or  took  part  in 
any  exhibition  of  a  theatrical  nature,  her  appearance 
being  strictly  restricted  to  artistic  riding,  and  she  was 
always  mounted  on  the  best  horses  of  her  father's  re- 
nowned stables. 


214  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

She  had  thought  that  she  could  never  bear  that  first 
evening,  that  she  would  certainly  die  from  the  double 
sorrow  of  humiliation  and  lost  love  ;  but  it  is  not  so  easy 
to  die.  She  was  created  of  enduring  material,  and  the 
consciousness  of  the  purity  of  her  intention  in  the  offer- 
ing she  made  sustained  her.  It  was  a  bitter  thing  when 
her  letter  was  returned  unopened,  but  it  came  when 
sorrow  had  almost  benumbed  her  heart.  The  envelope 
was  so  covered  with  various  postmarks  that  she  tried  to 
persuade  herself  that  perhaps  it  had  never  reached  Curt. 
She  looked  forward  to  the  day  when  she  could  explain 
all  her  motives  to  him,  and,  in  the  mean  time,  her  life 
and  conduct  would  be  her  best  protectors.  Wherever 
she  appeared  she  commanded  the  respect  and  admiration 
of  all  the  fashionable  men,  so  much  so  that  her  step- 
mother tried  to  cheer  her  by  assuring  her  that,  with  a 
little  encouragement,  she  could  have  ten  noblemen  at 
her  feet  instead  of  the  one  who  had  abandoned  her. 
Nora  shook  her  head  silently,  and  never  accepted  any 
homage,  no  matter  how  respectful  ;  never  cast  one  look 
of  gratification  to  her  crowd  of  admirers.  It  was  an 
accepted  fact  that  she  did  not  even  take  one  of  the  floral 
offerings  thrown  to  her  in  such  abundance.  One  cav- 
alier, more  persevering  than  the  others,  hit  on  the  idea 
of  sending  his  bouquets  direct  to  the  house,  and  it  re- 
quired all  the  persuasion  of  her  step-mother  to  prevent 
her  sending  them  back.  Only  the  fear  of  making  ene- 
mies for  her  father,  to  whom  she  had  devoted  her  life, 
induced  her  to  keep  them. 

She  declined   all  the  little  suppers  and   feasts  which 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  215 

were  given  ostensibly  to  honor  her  father,  but  in  reality 
to  draw  the  daughter  from  her  persistent  retirement. 
A  few  minutes  in  the  riding  school  or  a  turn  in  the  cor- 
ridor of  the  theatre,  and  even  then  by  the  side  of  her 
father,  were  the  only  occasions  on  which  the  most  ardent 
of  her  admirers  could  boast  of  meeting  her.  In  the 
early  morning,  when  society  was  still  asleep,  she  might 
have  been  seen  going  or  coming  from  church. 

This  had  been  Nora's  life,  but  the  night  after  her  long 
ride  in  the  Vienna  express  a  veil  seemed  to  fall  from 
her  eyes,  and  with  it  all  hope  vanished.  The  meeting 
in  the  train  made  her  understand  the  cold  contempt 
which  had  returned  her  letter  unopened.  Spurned  ! 
spurned  !  Torn  from  the  heart  which  was  all  and  every- 
thing to  her.  He  had  found  no  excuse  for  her  conduct  ; 
he  had  no  sympathy  or  compassion  for  her  to  lighten 
that  night  of  despair.  Her  face  lay  hidden  in  the  pil- 
lows, her  hands  were  buried  in  her  hair. 

In  the  midst  of  her  agony  a  feeling  of  justice  arose  ; 
the  broken  heart  rebelled  against  the  injustice  it  was 
suffering.  Who  was  he  who  would  not  deign  her  a 
word  or  a  look  ?  Had  he  not  broken  his  vow  to  be  her 
helper  and  protector  ?  and  yet  with  the  first  wave  of 
adversity  he  had  abandoned  her  !  True,  she  thought 
in  the  bitterness  of  her  soul,  she  had  released  him  from 
his  promise  ;  she  had  absolved  him  from  all  duty  ;  but 
he  had  not  raised  a  finger  to  help  her.  He  had  accepted 
his  freedom  to  let  her  sink. 

Why  should  she  grieve  ?  He  had  accepted  his  free- 
dom   most    willingly,    while    she    had    sacrificed    every 


2l6  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

thought  to  the  shadow  of  his  love.  The  indignant 
blood  rose  to  her  face  ;  the  deserted  heart  yearned  for 
some  excitement  to  fill  its  aching  void.  Why  should 
she  try  to  be  better  than  those  among  whom  fate  had 
cast  her  ?     All  happiness  had  fled. 

It  was  long  before  this  unhealthy  excitement  was 
quieted  in  Nora's  heart.  It  is  only  when  the  angry 
waters  have  abated  that  we  see  the  ravages  they  have 
made.  When  she  arose,  the  whole  expression  of  her 
countenance  was  changed.  Her  eyes  burned  with  an 
angry  fire,  her  lips  wore  a  haughty  curve.  As  she  was 
doing  up  her  hair  some  one  knocked  at  the  door,  and  a 
magnificent  bouquet  was  handed  in.  Her  first  impulse 
was  to  refuse  it,  as  usual  ;  but  a  second  thought  made 
her  bury  her  face  in  its  depths,  and  with  a  feverish  im- 
patience inhale  its  fragrance. 

She  was  at  no  loss  to  guess  from  whom  the  flowers 
came.  An  admirer  of  princely  rank  had  followed  her 
for  several  months  with  those  costly  offerings,  which 
to-day  for  the  first  time  she  accepted. 

"  I  can  bring  them  all  to  my  feet,"  she  said,  with  a 
proud  toss  of  her  head.  "  I  can  captivate  them  all  ;  I 
can  command  them  with  a  wave  of  my  hand  ;  I  can 
make  these  haughty  men  suffer  as  I  have  suffered.  I 
will  show  him  that  I  have  only  to  stretch  out  my  hand 
to  accept  what  he  refuses." 

When  Nora  came  to  her  fatlier  a  little  later  in  order 
to  receive  his  instructions  with  regard  to  the  coming  ex- 
hibition, he  was  arstonished  to  see  the  interest  she  mani- 
fested in  it. 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  217 

Every  tongue  was  busy  with  the  beauty  of  the  fair 
Karsten,  and  pronounced  her  more  charming  than  ever. 
The  coldness  for  which  she  had  been  hitherto  criticised 
had  disappeared,  which  was  attributed  to  the  triumphal 
tour  she  had  just  completed  in  France.  She  began  to 
take  part  in  character  performances,  and  became  quite 
famous  in  a  particularly  romantic  piece  which  drew 
large  houses.  It  was  taken  from  the  fable  of  Libussa, 
Bohemia's  beautiful  queen,  and  one  of  the  scenes,  in 
which  Libussa  and  her  amazons  attack  their  male  ene- 
mies, gave  an  opportunity  for  some  remarkable  feats  of 
equestrianism.  The  grace  of  the  amazons  as  they  put 
the  men  to  flight,  and  finally  the  close,  when  Libussa 
(Nora's  part)  sends  an  arrow  through  the  hero,  Sharka, 
and  then  falls  herself  dead,  called  forth  the  wildest  en- 
thusiasm from  full  houses. 

The  troupe  was  making  its  annual  visit  to  Vienna, 
and  when  the  play  of  Libussa  was  announced,  the  circus 
was  attended  by  the  most  fashionable  audience.  Nora 
looked  most  dazzlingly  beautiful  as,  mounted  on  a  black 
steed,  she  entered,  surrounded  by  her  amazons.  She 
wore  a  golden  coat  of  armor,  with  a  full  pleated  skirt 
of  cloth  of  silver,  and  a  silver  helmet,  which  left  her 
features  visible,  and  beneath  which  her  long  black  hair 
fell  down  her  neck.  She  sat  her  horse  with  a  strength 
and  ease  that  made  her  the  embodiment  of  the  ideal 
heroine.  The  combination  of  matchless  riders  and 
superb  horses  made  a  brilliant  spectacle,  but  every  eye 
was  fastened  on  Libussa,  whose  magnificent  presence 
and  graceful  riding  outshone  even  such  perfection. 


2l8  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

Applause  followed  applause,  and  at  the  scene  of  the 
amazons'  last  triumph,  when  they  rushed  out  with 
Libussa  at  their  head,  her  hair  flying,  her  eyes  on  fire, 
and  her  lance  raised,  one  general  cry  of  "  The  Valkyria, 
the  shield-maid  !"  rent  the  air.  Then  came  the  moment 
when  she  is  to  send  the  death-arrow  to  the  heart  of  the 
last  of  their  enemies,  and  die  herself  in  the  struggle. 
On  this  'occasion,  as  Nora's  many  admirers  were  strain 
ing  all  their  attention  in  expectation  of  the  telling  scene, 
she  seemed  palsied,  and  a  deathly  pallor  overspread  her 
countenance.  Her  step-mother,  who  personated  one  of 
the  amazons,  recalled  her  to  the  embarrassment  of  the 
position.  She  seemed  to  awaken  from  a  dream,  and 
played  her  part  to  the  end  so  effectively  that  the  audi- 
ence, looking  on  the  whole  occurrence  as  the  perfection 
of  acting,  were  wild  with  enthusiasm. 

Fortunately  the  plot  required  that  Nora  was  to  be 
carried  out  dying,  for  she  could  not  have  stood  up. 
She  did  not  hear  the  storm  of  encores  nor  see  the 
bouquets  and  crowns  which  fell  at  her  feet,  and  on 
being  taken  from  the  arena,  she  was  overcome  by 
hysteria. 

In  the  midst  of  a  group  of  officers  she  had  seen  a  man 
clad  in  ecclesiastical  robes  looking  at  her  earnestly,  but 
not  entering  into  the  surrounding  enthusiasm. 

One  of  the  officers  addressed  the  priest  in  the  follow- 
ing words,  "  Reverend  chaplain,  that  is  right  ;  has  this 
marvel  of  the  ring  tempted  you  to  the  city  ?  The  coun- 
tess seems  to  have  quite  deserted  us." 

"  The  ill-health  of  her  son  has   made  her  retire  com- 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER   S    DAUGHTER.  219 

pletely  from  society.  I  am  now  on  my  way  to  see 
Count  Curt,  who  has  again  been  taken  ill  at  his 
cousin's,"  replied  our  old  friend  the  chaplain. 

"Has  Curt  finally  returned  from  his  wandering?" 
continued  the  officer,  "  and  at  his  cousin's?  That  will 
please  his  mamma.  What  was  really  the  matter  with 
him  ?" 

"  The  climatic  fever  seemed  to  have  shattered  his  con- 
stitution. He  never  quite  recovered  from  the  brain 
fever  which  he  had  at  Pera.  We  were  beginning  to  be 
quite  encouraged  ab^ut  him,  but  now  all  the  old  symp- 
toms have  returned." 

"  This  is  very  sad,"  said  the  officer  kindly.  "  It  was 
an  unfortunate  idea  of  his  mother's  to  send  him  away  ; 
but  her  heart  seemed  set  on  it  for  some  reason  or  an- 
other.    I  trust  you  will  find  him  better." 

"  Thank  you.  He  expressed  a  wish  to  see  me,  so  I 
set  out  immediately.  The  countess  has  been  with  him 
for  some  weeks." 

"  I  shall  go  over  to  see  my  old  friend,  and  to  pay  my 
respect  to  the  coy  little  Countess  Lily.  Where  is  the 
younger  son.  Count  Nicholas  ?" 

"  With  his  regiment.  He  has  grown  to  be  a  big  fel- 
low in  the  last  few  years." 

Indeed  ?  But  he  will  never  equal  Curt,  the  best 
fellow  that  ever  lived.  It  would  be  a  pity  if  he  should 
not  get  strong.  Come,  reverend  sir  ;  something  seems 
to  attract  our  friends." 

As  they  approached  a  group  of  young  officers,  who 
surrounded  their  captain  of  the  horse,  one  of  them  was 


220  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

heard  to  say,  "  Did  you  ever  see  anything  more  beauti- 
ful ?  She  is  charming  ;  and  her  riding  !  Captain,  she 
seems  to  improve  all  the  time." 

"  I  can't  agree  with  you,"  replied  the  latter.  "  She 
used  to  please  me  more  ;  she  seemed  so  completely  to 
forget  herself  and  be  almost  a  part  of  her  horse.  To- 
night it  was  not  so.     But  see  ;  is  that  not  Prince  N ? 

They  say  his  admiration  for  the  pretty  Karsten  makes 
him  follow  the  troupe  everywhere." 

"  Yes,  they  tell  wonderful  things  of  his  devotion  to 
her  ;  but  they  say  she  is  engaged  to  the  manager,  who 
is  madly  jealous." 

The  chaplain  heaved  a  deep  sigh. 

"Reverend  chaplain,  will  you  join  us?"  asked  the 
captain  respectfully.  "  A  little  cool  refreshment  will 
not  come  amiss." 

"  I  thank  you,  no.  I  think  I  have  had  enough  of 
worldliness  for  one  evening,  and  I  have  to  make  an 
early  start  in  the  morning.     Good-night,  gentlemen," 


THE   CIRCUS-RIDER  S   DAUGHTER. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

EARLY  next  morning  a  note  was  handed  to  Nora 
requiring  an  answer.  She  had  had  a  feverish 
night,  and  was  now  sitting  at  her  table  trying  to  write 
a  letter,  and  tearing  up  each  attempt.  The  note,  which 
was  on  a  visiting-card,  requested  her  to  see  the  writer. 
Nora  hesitated,  ther;  sent  the  desired  permission,  and 
immediately  seemed  to  regret  it  ;  but  it  was  too  late  to 
change  her  mind,  for  the  chaplain  appeared  on  the 
threshold,  stretched  out  his  hand  to  her,  and  looked 
her  kindly  and  earnestly  in  the  eye. 

Remembrance  after  remembrance  connected  with  him 
rushed  upon  her,  and  tears  sprang  to  her  eyes  as  she 
said  sadly,  "  You  see  me  a  rider,  a  circus-rider,  after 
all."  She  threw  herself  on  the  sofa,  and  covered  her 
face  with  her  hands. 

"  God  be  thanked  for  these  tears,"  replied  the  chap- 
lain, laying  his  hand  on  her  head.  "  My  poor  child,  I 
thank  God  that  it  is  such  a  sacrifice  to  you.  Yesterday 
I  feared  that  you  were  reconciled  to  it." 

"  Would  to  God  I  were  !"  cried  Nora  bitterly. 
"  Would  that  it  were  no  sacrifice  ;  would  that  I  could 
forget  the  past,  and  only  remember  that  now  I  have 
wealth,  admiration,  beauty,  adulation  !  Why,  oh  why, 
do  I  cling  to  the  old  thoughts  ?  Now  you  come  to  re- 
call those  thoughts,  to  renew   the  struggle.     I  wanted 


222  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

to  ask  you  not  to  come,  to  leave  me  in  peace.  Oh, 
why  did  you  come  ?" 

"  Why  did  I  come  ?  To  keep  a  promise  made  to  a 
dying  mother  to  be  a  friend  and  adviser  to  her  child. 
Would  to  God  that  I  had  come  before  she  took  a  step 
so  disastrous  to  herself  and  to  others  !" 

"  It  was  not  disastrous  to  others,"  interrupted  Nora. 
"  They  soon  found  it  easy  to  forget  and  to  despise." 

"  No  one  knows  what  another  felt  and  suffered.  Pos- 
sibly he  has  been  as  cruelly  deceived  as  you.  Possibly 
all  is  destined  to  lead  you  to  the  goal." 

"  The  goal  can  never  be  reached,"  she  cried  piteously. 

"  Not  the  one  for  which  we  hoped,  but  that  to  which 
all  ways  may  lead  ;  through  the  path  of  sacrifice,  which 
is  God's  providence." 

"  Do  you  think  the  career  on  which  I  have  entered  is 
particularly  conducive  to  such  a  result?"  she  asked 
scornfully. 

"  There  is  no  career  which  cannot  be  sanctified,"  re- 
plied the  chaplain,  in  the  same  unruffled  tone.  "  Yes, 
the  greater  the  temptation  the  greater  the  merit." 

"  Do  you  consider  it  an  easy  thing  to  overcome  temp- 
tation ?'■'  she  cried  obstinately.  "Look  there,"  and 
she  pointed  to  the  floral  offerings  of  the  preceding  night 
— "  look  there  !"  and  she  crushed  the  heap  of  perfumed 
notes  and  threw  them  from  her.  "  Do  you  think  that 
all  this  makes  no  impression  on  the  mind,  does  not  cor- 
rupt the  heart  ?  Do  you  believe  that  the  ear  can  remain 
deaf  to  applause  and  the  heart  always  indifferent  when 
it   has   been   robbed   of  all   happiness  ?     Since   my   last 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  223 

anchor  was  broken,  since  he  showed  me  that  he  despised 
me,  my  heart  has  sought  reparation  in  what  the  world 
offers,  cost  what  it  will  !  Oh,  I  know  that  I  shall  retro- 
grade. I  shall  learn  to  love  and  enjoy  life  as  thousands 
no  better  than  I  have  done  before  me,  as  thousands 
after  me  will  do." 

The  priest  did  not  argue  with  her.  His  deep  knowl- 
edge of  the  world  taught  him  that  he  must  not  frighten 
the  already  sorely  wounded  soul. 

"  Man's  love  at  best,"  he  said,  "  is  but  a  poor  anchor  ; 
but  what  makes  you  think  that  he  despises  you  ?" 

The  blush  deepened  on  her  cheek  ;  she  could  not  find 
words  to  express  what  she  desired  to  say  ;  she  walked 
over  to  the  window,  and  pressed  her  forehead  against 
the  pane. 

"  Do  you  ever  hear  from  him  ?"   pursued  the  chaplain. 

"  Some  weeks  since  I  came  in  the  express  train  from 
Paris  to  a  certain  Austrian  town.  A  gentleman  who  no 
longer  recognized  me  sat  in  the  coupe  with  me,"  she 
said,  in  a  choked  voice. 

The  chaplain  started  and  said,  "  You  travelled  with 
him  ?" 

Nora  nodded  and  trembled. 

This  explained  the  cause  of  Curt's  relapse.  Should 
he  tell  her  the  effect  of  this  meeting  ?  Would  it  be 
wise  to  thus  awaken  a  dangerous  hope  in  her  bosom  ? 
Even  above  prudence  stand  out  the  truth  and  kindness 
which  may  soothe  the  wounded  heart,  which  does  not 
grudge  the  drop  of  healing  balm,  which  will  raise  the 
drooping  spirit.     This  was  the  conviction  which  made 


224  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

the  chaplain  say,  "  Count  Degenthal  has  been  sick  ever 
since  that  journey,  I  am  now  on  my  way  to  see  him, 
for  he  is  not  able  to  leave  his  cousin's  house." 

Nora  turned  her  head  and  gasped,  "  Dangerously 
sick  ?" 

"  It  seems  to  be  a  relapse  of  his  long  sickness.  The 
doctor  attributes  it  to  nervousness  for  which  he  cannot 
account." 

"  Relapse  !"  repeated  Nora.  "  Of  what  sickness  are 
you  speaking  ?" 

"  Do  you  know  nothing  of  it  ?" 

Nora  shook  her  head  and  said,  "  I  only  knew  that  he 
was  abroad,  attache  to  some  legation." 

"  And  you  believed  that  he  heard  of  the  change  with 
indifference  ?  For  three  long  years  the  announcement, 
for  which  he  was  not  prepared,  threw  him  on  a  sick- 
bed," said  the  priest,  and  then  in  his  own  quiet,  clear 
way  he  related  all  that  had  occurred. 

Deathly  pale  Nora  listened,  and  at  the  close  ex- 
claimed, "  Oh,  my  God  !  Sick  and  languishing  all 
those  years  !" 

Sick  and  languishing  on  her  account  !  In  her  deep 
sorrow  she  had  thought  only  of  herself,  never  of  him  ! 
His  delicate  organization  had  suffered  even  more  ex- 
quisitely than  she  had.  He  whom  she  had  come  to 
hate  on  account  of  his  supposed  indifference  was  broken 
down  in  mind  and  body  !  She  now  despised  her  own 
youth  and  health  and  strength. 

"  Oh,  good  God,  this  is  terrible  !"  she  repeated.  "  I 
would  not  have  believed  it." 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER,  225 

"  We  are  prone  to  be  unjust  when  we  allow  sorrow 
to  master  us,  particularly  if  we  believe  ourselves 
wronged." 

"  Father,  father  !"  she  cried,  "  it  was  not  my  fault. 
You  do  not  know  what  brought  me  to  this,  and  my  lips 
refuse  to  lisp  it.  I  wrote  to  Curt,  confiding  all  to  him. 
Unheard  he  condemned  me.  My  letter  was  returned 
unopened  without  a  word." 

"  Did  he  not  read  it  ?  Then  he  heard  of  your  appear- 
ance in  public  from  other  sources,  and  that  embittered 
him,  for  he  confided  in  you  implicitly  ;  hence,  also,  his 
sickness.  Nora,  give  me  your  confidence,"  pleaded  the 
good  man  earnestly. 

"  Yes,  I  will  ;  but  it  must  be  as  sacred  as  the  sacra- 
mental secret,  for  it  concerns  others  as  well  as  myself." 

She  threw  herself  on  her  knees,  as  if  to  confess  her 
own  guilt,  and  repeated  all  the  occurrences  of  the  un- 
happy day  when  her  father's  life  lay  in  the  balance. 
She  told  of  the  soul's  agony  which  induced  her  vow. 

The  chaplain  listened  to  her  in  silence.  He  had  never 
believed  her  frivolous  or  untrue,  and  had  tried  in  vain 
to  find  an  explanation  for  her  conduct,  or  grounds  to  ex- 
cuse it.  But  the  greatness  of  her  sacrifice  exceeded  all 
his  imagination.  He  was  filled  with  pity  for  the  young 
creature  who  had  been  capable  of  such  heroic  self-sacri- 
fice, and  had  only  reaped  contempt. 

"  Have  I  done  wrong?  Oh,  do  not  condemn  me  !" 
she  cried.  "  I  destroyed  my  happiness  with  my  own 
hand." 

"  God  forbid  that  I  should  judge  you,  my  poor  child," 


226  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

said  the  priest  earnestly.  "  May  He  direct  me  what  to 
counsel  you.  Your  filial  love  and  self-sacrifice  sanctify 
your  resolution,  and  will  bring  God's  blessing  upon 
you.  Life  has  been  harder  for  you  than  even  mother- 
love  anticipated.  You  gave  up  all  in  order  to  save  your 
father." 

"But  have  I  saved  him,  have  I  saved  him?"  she 
whispered.  "  That  is  the  question  that  has  troubled 
me  for  some  time.  Oh,  I  cannot  mention  what  now 
oppresses  me,  even  though  I  have  tried  to  close  my 
eyes  to  many  things,  to  accept  life  as  light  and  super- 
ficial, for  thought  is  agonizing.  Landolfo  is  my  father's 
evil  spirit,  and  exercises  complete  control  over  him. 
My  father  is  no  more  what  he  was,"  she  said,  with 
burning  cheeks.  "  This  life  is  corrupting  every  one. 
Perhaps  if  I  had  not  made  this  sacrifice,  he  would  have 
been  forced  to  give  it  up." 

"  You  did  what  you  believed  to  be  right.  That  justi- 
fies us  before  God  and  our  own  conscience.  Do  not 
trouble  yourself  about  this.  We  cannot  foresee.  But 
now  that  your  father's  circumstances  are  so  much  im- 
proved, could  you  not  withdraw  ?" 

"  No,  no  ;  he  says  that  I  am  necessary  to  his  fortune. 
Landolfo,  I  fear,  will  so  arrange  it  that  I  never  can  re- 
tire.    He  sets  everything  against  me." 

"  Against  you  ?  He  cannot  set  your  father  against  his 
darling.  Are  you  not  well  treated  ?"  asked  the  chap- 
lain. 

"  I  do  not  mean  that,"  she  replied,  with  a  sad  smile. 
"  Every  one  treats  me  well  ;  every  one  spoils  me  ;  every 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  227 

one  flatters  me.  I  am  necessary.  But  he  whom  I 
named  has  personal  plans  on  account  of  which  he  daily- 
increases  his  influence  over  mj''  father.  They  cannot 
conquer  me  !"  she  exclaimed,  with  flaming  eye,  "  but 
one  plan  is  succeeded  by  another.  You  can  hardly  com- 
prehend the  intrigues  in  such  a  life  as  this.  I  would  not 
dare  leave  my  father  yet." 

"  Can  you  not  be  more  explicit  ?"  asked  the  chaplain. 

"  No,  no.     It  is  like  a  ghost,  ever  reappearing." 

"  Nora,"  said  the  priest  seriously,  after  several  min- 
utes' consideration,  "  fulfil  your  mission,  hard  though 
it  be.  It  is  higher  than  personal  happiness  ;  it  will  lead 
you  in  perilous  paths.  Keep  your  heart  pure,  and  no 
danger  will  overcome  you.  You  will  be  the  guardian 
spirit  of  your  father,  and  grace  will  not  be  wanting  to 
you.  Is  it  not  the  providence  of  God  that  has  sent  me 
here  ?  Has  He  not  sent  you  consolation  in  explaining 
away  much  that  threatened  to  overpower  your  soul  and 
poison  your  sacrifice  ?  Go  on  firm  and  strong,  but  do 
not  barter  your  birthright  for  vanity  and  worldly  am- 
bition." 

"  But  how  long,  how  long  ?  Shall  I  not  weaken  and 
fail  ?"   she  sighed. 

As  long  as  God  wills.  He  can  in  a  moment  accom- 
plish what  seems  to  us  impossible,"  said  the  priest, 
rising. 

Nora  also  arose,  and  placing  her  hand  in  his,  said, 
"  Yes,  it  was  the  providence  of  God  that  sent  you.  I 
stand  on  the  brink  of  a  precipice  ;  pray  that  I  may  not 
fall." 


228  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

At  that  moment  there  was  a  knock  on  the  door,  and 
the  director  entered.  "  Oh,  you  have  visitors  !"  he 
said,  with  apparent  astonishment.  "  Why,  your  rever- 
ence, what  kind  chance  sends  you  to  us  ?  It  is  a  pleasure 
to  see  you."  He  reached  out  his  hand,  but  there  was  a 
tone  in  his  voice  and  a  manner  to  his  welcome  that 
belied  his  words. 

The  chaplain  found  Karsten  changed  ;  his  figure  had 
grown  stouter,  his  features  were  bloated,  his  eyes  were 
weary  and  restless  ;  even  his  step  had  lost  its  elasticity. 
Nora  explained  to  her  father  the  reason  of  the  chaplain's 
presence,  which  reminded  the  latter  that  it  was  time  for 
him  to  start  on  his  journey. 

"  I  fear  that  this  meeting  has  over-excited  you,  my 
child,"  said  the  director  suspiciously  ;  and  turning  to 
the  visitor,  he  continued,  "  All  has  turned  out  as  older 
heads  anticipated.  Young  people  must  learn  by  experi- 
ence. My  daughter  is  now  very  happy,  and  has  no 
doubt  told  you  that  her  life  is  not  so  hard  as  it  at  first 
seemed.  Was  I  no't  right  in  saying  that  she  would  be 
a  success  ?  Could  any  one  have  a  greater  triumph  than 
she  had  last  night  ?" 

"  The  Emperor  of  Russia  was  a  true  prophet,"  an- 
swered the  chaplain. 

"  Yes,  yes.  She  has  quite  thrown  her  old  father  in 
the  shade,"  said  the  director,  with  a  loud  laugh. 
"  Nora,  I  don't  know  how  many  bouquets  are  awaiting 
you  in  Russia.  She  is  my  staff  and  pride,  but  a  spoiled 
princess."  He  put  his  arm  around  her  and  drew  her  to 
him. 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  229 

A  certain  hesitation  in  the  director's  voice  and  flushed 
spots  on  his  cheeks  gave  the  chaplain  a  suspicion  which 
would  have  grown  to  a  certainty  had  he  known  that  he 
had  just  breakfasted  with  Landolfo.  After  deep 
draughts  of  good  sherry,  the  latter  informed  Karsten  of 
the  clergyman's  visit,  and  recommended  him  to  interrupt 
it  before  his  daughter's  head  was  filled  with  nonsense. 

These  little  breakfasts,  always  at  the  director's  ex- 
pense, had  become  rather  frequent  lately,  and  generally 
with  the  same  result.  Nora's  uneasiness  at  Landolfo's 
growing  and  evil  influence  over  her  father  was  only  too 
well  grounded.  It  extended  not  only  to  a  complete 
control  of  the  business  ;  he  took  every  means  of  making 
himself  agreeable  to  Karsten,  and  encouraged  an  in- 
clination toward  drinking  which  had  developed  in  the 
latter  since  his  sickness.  Decreasing  bodily  strength 
and  inability  to  bear  much  excitement  seem  to  call  for 
stimulants,  which  makes  the  years  at  the  close  of  middle 
life  dangerous  to  some  men  in  particular. 

"  The  prince  called  to  inquire  for  you,  Nora,  and  to 
invite  you  to  a  little  excursion,"  said  Karsten,  in  the 
same  tones. 

I  thank  him,  father,  but  I  hope  you  told  him  that 
I  never  accept  such  invitations." 

But  you  certainly  can  go  accompanied  by  your 
parents.  I  trust,  your  reverence,  that  you  are  not  going 
to  make  a  nun  of  my  little  daughter." 

"  I  agree  with  Miss  Nora  in  this  matter,"  said  the 
priest.  "  A  young  lady  in  her  position  cannot  be  too 
careful." 


230  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

"  Bah,  bah  !  do  not  put  such  things  in  her  head,  rev- 
erend sir  ;  she  is  already  haughty  enough.  She  will  be 
my  ruin." 

"  Father,  if  you  really  mean  this,"  said  Nora,  very 
quietly,  "  I  am  quite  ready  to  retire.  You  know  well 
that  I  am  not  in  love  with  the  calling,  and  can  easily 
find  another." 

"  You  see  how  independent  our  princess  has  grown," 
muttered  her  father,  patting  her  cheeks.  "  She  knows 
we  could  not  spare  her  ;  but,  my  daughter,  do  not  place 
your  father  in  such  a  predicament,"  he  pleaded  in  a 
maudlin  voice. 

Nora,  to  whom  the  whole  scene  was  inexpressibly  dis- 
agreeable, reached  out  her  hand  to  the  chaplain,  saying 
sadly,  "  I  fear  we  are  detaining  }^ou  from  those  who  are 
longing  for  your  presence.  I  thank  j'^ou  sincerely  for 
your  visit,  which  has  done  me  so  much  good.  Do  not 
be  afraid  that  I  shall  again  be  tempted  to  be  unsubmis- 
sive." 

"  God  will  help  you.  Perhaps  what  I  have  told  you 
will  add  to  your  suffering,  but  it  will  be  a  shield  to  save 
you  from  worse." 

"  And  it  shall  not  be  in  vain  ;  to-day  you  have  armed 
me  anew,"  she  replied,  with  a  firm  pressure  of  the 
hand. 

The  chaplain  turned  away,  overcome  by  his  feelings. 
She  appeared  to  him  more  cruelly  orphaned  than  when 
a  little  child. 

The  director  seemed  troubled,  and  repeated,  throw- 
ing himself  into  a  chair,  "  Do  not  make  her  a  nun." 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  23I 

When  the  chaplain  left  the  room,  Nora  followed  him, 
and  with  trembling  lips  said,  "  But  one  word.  Let  ine 
know  how  you  find  him.  Do  not  speak  to  him  of  me  ; 
he  could  not  bear  it,  and  it  would  be  useless." 

A  kind  hand-shake  and  a  nod  of  assent  were  the 
priest's  only  answer  ;  but  as  he  walked  slowly  away,  he 
pondered  on  the  resignation  and  heroism  which  are 
possible  to  a  true  woman's  heart,  that  out  of  pure  love 
prefers  to  be  forgotten  rather  than  inflict  pain  on  the 
beloved. 

The  knowledge  of  having  been  mourned  made  Nora 
heroic. 


232  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

LILY'S  joy  at  once  more  seeing  her  cousin  was 
sliort-lived.  His  illness  became  so  alarming  that 
she  called  a  doctor,  and  telegraphed  to  her  aunt.  The 
countess  arrived  next  day,  and  the  reunion  after  so 
many  years  of  separation  was  indeed  sad.  Her  son's 
pale  face,  emaciated  figure,  and  weary  look  were  all 
evidences  of  the  shock  his  constitution  had  received. 

Was  she  not  filled  with  remorse  as  she  sat  for  hours 
by  her  son's  bedside,  while  he  lay  with  closed  eyes,  too 
tired  to  be  able  to  listen  to  her  talk,  too  indifferent  to 
ask  about  home,  too  cold  and  reserved  to  return  her 
tenderness,  or  to  give  her  his  confidence  ?  It  seemed 
as  if  his  young  heart  was  ice-bound  and  frozen. 

She  was  not  one  to  grieve  over  what  was  past.  She 
had  done  only  what  she  had  believed  to  be  her  duty, 
forgetting  that  there  is  no  duty  so  easily  performed  as 
that  which  is  self-imposed.  She  flattered  herself  that 
"the  climate,  the  intrigues  of  others,  and  her  son's  own 
weakness  were  responsible  for  his  sickness.  She  solaced 
herself  with  the  thought  of  how  necessary  it  would  be 
to  influence  him,  how  dangerous  to  leave  him  to  him- 
self, and  how  careful  she  must  be  to  prevent  the  awaken- 
ing of  old  recollections. 

Every  one  but  the  chaplain  was  at  a  loss  to  account 
for   Curt's  relapse,  and   as   the   latter  remained  so  re- 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  233 

served,  he  was,  of  course,  silent.  He  intimated  to  the 
countess  that  there  were  things  which  it  was  better  to 
leave  to  time  than  to  try  to  combat. 

It  was  September  before  any  sign  of  recovery  could 
be  noticed  in  Curt.  The  autumn's  sun  shone  with  the 
summer's  glow,  without  its  heat,  over  the  green  lawn 
and  the  flowery  parterre  on  which  the  "  summer  parlor" 
of  Lily's  castle  opened.  It  was  an  ideal  resting-place 
for  the  weary  invalid.  The  graceful  pillars,  the  solid 
walls  of  the  castle,  the  urns  of  rare  plants  which  orna- 
mented the  terrace  and  almost  changed  it  into  a  flowery 
paradise,  the  landscape,  with  its  foreground  of  luxurious 
meadows  and  views  of  hill  and  forest — all  combined  to 
make  the  "  summer  parlor"  a  delight  and  a  comfort. 

Since  he  had  left  his  sick-bed,  Curt  spent  many  hours 
in  this  fairy  bower  in  an  apparently  half-dreamy  state. 
This  outward  appearance  of  quiet,  however,  served  but 
to  conceal  the  inner  torrnents  of  his  soul,  which  the 
accidental  meeting  with  Nora  had  awakened.  It  was  a 
ceaseless  ebb  and  flow  of  feelings — the  reawakened 
love,  the  desire  to  crush  it  out,  the  regret  which  would 
come,  the  doubt  whether  he  had  done  right  or  not  to 
have  condemned  her  without  hearing.  .  Physical  weak- 
ness made  clear  thought  impossible.  Rest,  rest  was 
what  he  craved,  and  he  would  have  almost  accepted 
annihilation  to  find  rest  and  forgetfulness  ;  but  forget- 
fulness  does  not  come  at  our  bidding — yea,  the  more 
we  crave  it  the  farther  it  flies.  Of  all  those  about  him, 
Lily  distressed  him  the  least,  and  he  was  more  at  ease 
with  her  than  with  any  of  the  rest  of  the  household. 


234  "^THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

She  looked  on  him  as  the  long-absent  one  for  whom 
she  had  longed,  the  invalid  for  whose  life  she  trembled, 
and  whose  recovery  she  hailed  with  a  delight  she  could 
hardly  conceal.  To  see  him  under  her  own  roof  and 
to  minister  to  his  comforts  stirred  her  naturally  lethargic 
nature.  Lily's  presence  did  not  detract  from  the  charm 
of  the  terrace  ;  her  fresh  complexion  and  fair  hair 
showed  to  advantage  in  the  daylight,  while  in  the  even- 
ing, in  the  drawing-room,  she  seemed  uninteresting  and 
dull.  The  plain,  every-day  dress  of  the  housewife  suited 
her  better  than  the  adornments  of  society.  By  degrees 
Curt  came  to  the  conclusion  that  his  little  cousin  had 
improved  during  his  absence  ;  her  figure  had  grown 
slighter  and  her  face  less  round,  and  when  she  laughed 
two  becoming  dimples  appeared  ;  and  since  his  return 
Lily  often  laughed  in  her  quiet  way.  He  observed  her 
with  growing  interest  as  she  busied  herself  with  little 
household  cares  or  wandered  among  her  flower-beds 
or  listened  to  the  petitions  of  her  poor,  duties  which, 
by  the  way,  seemed  to  call  her  very  much  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  the  terrace,  possibly  because  she  did  not 
wish  to  neglect  her  watchfulness  over  her  guest.  When 
Curt  called  her  from  this  busy  round  of  cares  she 
obeyed  with  happy  alacrity,  and  her  little  commonplace 
remarks  did  not  excite  him.  In  his  present  state  of 
physical  and  mental  weariness  he  dreaded  all  excite- 
ment, and  with  the  security  of  youth,  he  believed  that 
all  interest  in  life  was  dead  to  him.  With  returning 
strength  the  life  of  Gohlitz  grew  more  endurable  to 
him.     The  presence  of  the  countess  supplied  all  neces- 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  235 

sary  chaperonage,  and  Curt's  return  from  his  travels 
brought  some  of  his  old  friends  to  visit  him. 

On  one  particular  day  a  pleasant  party  was  collected 
on  the  terrace,  some  of  the  neighbors  and  some  of  Curt's 
friends,  who  had  arrived  from  the  city  by  train,  the 
captain  of  the  horse,  whom  the  chaplain  had  met  at  the 
circus,  being  of  the  number.  It  was  one  of  those  days 
when  the  sun  shines  brightest,  and  every  one  appears 
at  his  best.  The  young  hostess,  with  a  blue  veil 
thrown  over  her  yellow  locks,  looked  like  a  pretty  flax 
blossom.  Those  wonderful  beautifiers,  love  and  happi- 
ness, gave  her  an  animated  expression  which  was  un- 
usual to  her,  and  as  she  sat  beneath  a  luxuriant  olean- 
der-tree, surrounded  by  the  young  men  of  the  party, 
she  accepted  their  homage  with  the  cool  indifference  of 
one  whose  affections  were  already  engaged.  Curt  must 
be  pardoned  if  he  could  not  but  notice  that  her  most 
frequent  glances  were  for  him  ;  where  is  the  man  whose 
vanity  is  not  flattered  by  being  singled  out  of  a  crowd 
of  admirers  ?  With  the  easy  confidence  of  cousinship. 
Curt  sat  next  the  little  hostess,  his  arm  resting  on  the 
back  of  her  chair,  and  his  fingers  toying  with  the  band 
which  bound  her  hair  ;  he  spoke  with  unusual  warmtli 
and  fluency,  calling  an  expression  to  his  face  which  was 
very  becoming. 

"  All  offering  allegiance  ?"  said  the  chaplain,  as  he 
joined  the  party. 

Lily  looked  at  him  joyously. 

"  Oho  !  reverend  sir,"  exclaimed  the  captain,  in  his 
most    jovial    voice  ;    "  you     cannot     blame    us,     when 


236  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

you  yourself  so  lately  paid  allegiance  to  youth  and 
beauty." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?"  asked  the  priest,  very  much 
astonished. 

"  Now,  now,"  continued  the  other,  "just  remember  ; 
there  was  no  time  to  stay  with  poor  us — just  starting  on 
a  journey — and  the  next  thing  a  card  is  sent  to  the  beauty 
of  beauties.  You  did  not  suspect  that  I  was  standing 
near  you  at  the  hotel  when  you  asked  for  her  address. 
I  hope  that  in  your  priestly  zeal  you  did  not  preach  her 
too  severe  a  sermon.  The  Karsten  circus  would  be 
nothing  without  the  brilliant  Nora." 

"  Oh,  you  allude  to  my  recent  visit  to  Miss  Nora 
Karsten?"  said  the  chaplain,  annoyed  by  the  untimely 
jest.  "  Yes,  yes  ;  I  hunted  her  up,  for  I  have  known 
her  since  her  childhood." 

Curt  shrank  back  ;  Lily's  hair-band  fell  from  his 
fingers  ;  then  he  leaned  back  in  his  chair,  to  all  appear- 
ance perfectly  indifferent. 

The  countess,  who  was  sitting  near  the  group,  raised 
her  head  and  looked  as  if  she  could  not  believe  her  ears. 

"  Every  one  must  acknowledge,"  continued  the  cap- 
tain, without  the  slightest  suspicion  of  the  excitement 
he  was  creating,  "  that  nothing  can  surpass  her  on  horse- 
back. Degenthal,  she  has  not  her  equal  in  equestrian- 
ism. Did  you  ever  come  across  her  in  your  trav- 
els?" 

"  No,"  replied  Curt  laconically. 

"  Oh,  well,  you  positively  must  run  up  to  the  city  ; 
it  is  well  worth  the  trouble.     In  the  character  of  Libussa 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  237 

she  is  a  grand  success  ;  even  his  reverence  here  was 
quite  enthusiastic." 

"  Not  so  much  enthusiastic  as  deeply  sympathetic," 
said  the  chaplain.  "  Fate  has  compelled  her  to  adopt 
this  career.     She  was  educated  for  different  things." 

"  Curt,"  said  the  countess,  interrupting  the  conversa- 
tion, "  it  is  growing  cold,  you  must  not  remain  out 
longer  ;  had  you  not  better  go  in  ?" 

The  young  man  did  not,  answer,  but  neither  did  he 
follow  the  advice  ;  he  took  his  straw  hat  and  drew  it  so 
low  that  his  expression  could  not  be  seen. 

Not  to  be  diverted  from  his  subject,  the  captain  con- 
tinued, "Why  fate?  She  is  the  daughter  of  a  circus 
director — nothing  more  natural  than  that  she  should  fol- 
low the  career  ;  but  I  have  heard  that  her  conduct  is 
irreproachable. 

"  It  is  reported  that  she  is  engaged  to  her  father's 
manager,"  said  one  of  the  other  gentlemen. 

"  Yes,  and  it  is  also  said  that  it  was  out  of  love  for 
him  that  she  appears  in  public,"  added  some  one 
else. 

"  I  believe  that  to  be  a  malicious  rumor,"  said  the 
chaplain  decidedly. 

"  It  is  positively  asserted  that  she  had  an  early  love 
affair,  but  I  forget  the  particulars,"  continued  the 
captain. 

"  There  are  always  many  stories  of  that  nature  in  cir- 
culation,  but  without  foundation,"  answered  the  priest  ; 
"  and,  as  I  said  before,  I  regret  exceedingly  that  the 
lady  has  taken  this  step  ;  but  there  are  circumstances 


238  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

which  it  is  very  hard  to  control.  She  has  my  honest 
respect." 

"  Curt,"  called  out  the  countess  impatiently,  "  it  is 
very  imprudent  of  you  to  remain  out  ;  the  autumn  fogs 
are  very  dangerous.  How  can  you  expect  to  recover, 
when  you  are  so  imprudent  ?" 

"  I  see  no  necessity  for  going  in,"  he  replied,  rising 
and  going  to  the  door  of  the  parlor,  where  he  stood  as 
if  determined  to  hear  all. 

"  I  used  to  know  Nora  Karsten  very  well,"  said  Lily  ; 
"  and,  furthermore,  I  loved  her  dearly.  We  were  at  the 
same  school.  I  could  not  believe  it  when  I  heard  that 
she  had  appeared  in  public,  and  I  am  sure  the  chaplain 
is  right  when  he  says  that  only  some  unfortunate  cir- 
cumstance drove  her  to  it.  Has  her  father  lost  his  for- 
tune ?" 

"  It  does  not  look  so,  countess  ;  the  proceeds  from  the 
circus  seem  to  increase  every  year." 

"  What,  then,  can  it  be  ?  Poor  Nora  !"  said  Lily 
thoughtfully. 

"  If  she  has  been  educated  as  you  say,  countess,  it  is 
indeed  sad,"  remarked  an  old  gentleman.  "Associ- 
ating with  the  members  of  the  troupe  alone  must  be 
unbearable." 

"  Poor  Nora  !"  replied  Lily,  and  at  the  same  moment 
she  met  the  troubled  look  of  her  aunt,  who  was  gazing 
at  her  son  ;  and  supposing  that  she  understood  the  cause 
of  her  evident  alarm,  said,  "  I  think  we  are  all  doing 
very  wrong  to  remain  out-doors.  Come,  Curt,  it  is 
more  comfortable  inside." 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  239 

The  company  entered  the  house  at  the  suggestion  of 
their  young  hostess,  but  they  did  not  find  the  change 
at  all  more  comfortable.  The  former  mirth  seemed  to 
have  given  way  to  a  general  depression.  With  increas- 
ing anxiety  the  countess  went  nearer  to  her  son,  who 
had  thrown  himself  in  a  chair,  looking  pale  and  weary, 
and  the  visitors  hastened  their  departure,  fearing  to  tire 
the  convalescent. 

As  the  captain  was  going  away,  Lily  asked  him  in  a 
low  voice  if  the  circus  was  still  in  the  city. 

"  So  far  as  I  know  there  has  been  no  announcement 
of  their  departure  ;  but  I  shall  inquire  and  let  you  know, 
countess." 

"  No,  no,  thank  you,"  replied  Lily  hurriedly,  as  she 
saw  her  aunt  observing  her. 

As  soon  as  the  guests  had  gone  the  countess  ap- 
proached the  chaplain,  and  said  to  him  excitedly,  "  My 
dear  chaplain,  how  could  you  be  so  imprudent  as  to 
speak  as  you  did,  and  revive  such  remembrances  in  my 
son  ?" 

"  I  believe,  countess,  those  remembrances  have  never 
slept,  and  that  they  are  the  cause  of  his  illness." 

"  Oh,  nonsense  ;  the  climate  was  the  cause  of  his  ill- 
ness. Now  it  is  of  the  first  importance  to  keep  them 
apart  ;  this  was  the  only  thing  that  reconciled  me  to 
his  long  absence.  I  have  been  most  careful  to  avoid 
any  approach  to  this  subject." 

"  Madam,  the  greatest  human  efforts  are  but  weak. 
Count  Curt  and  Nora  Karsten  have  already  met." 

"  In  Heaven's  name,  how  can  that  be  ?" 


240  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

"  Accidentally  they  travelled  in  the  same  railway  car- 
riage, and  Curt's  last  relapse  was  the  result  of  this  meet- 
ing. You  may  judge  whether  remembrance  is  dead  or 
sleeping." 

"  My  God  !  my  God  !"  cried  the  countess.  "  Just 
as  I  was  beginning  to  have  the  greatest  hopes  that  my 
plans  were  succeeding  to  have  him  marry  his  cousin." 

"  Countess,  it  would  be  better  to  refrain  from  making 
plans.  Leave  all  things  to  Heaven  to  decide  what  is 
best.  You  have  nothing  to  fear  from  Nora;  she  has 
resigned  all  claims  on  him." 

"  If  you  had  only  not  contradicted  what  the  gentle- 
man said,  and  let  Curt  hear  how  she  was  spoken  of." 

"  But,  madam,  it  was  untrue,  and  an  untruth  never 
brings  good,"  said  the  chaplain,  in  a  kind  but  decided 
voice.  "Truth  and  justice  demanded  that  I  should 
speak,  for  I  am  in  possession  of  facts." 

"  But  what  made  it  necessary  for  you  to  renew  the 
acquaintance  of  this  family  ?  I  was  so  happy  in  believ- 
ing that  all  was  at  an  end." 

"  It  was  not  a  question  of  a  visit,  countess,  but  of  the 
salvation  of  a  soul  and  of  duty.  I  perceived  that  mis- 
fortune and  disappointment  were  placing  the  young 
girl  in  great  danger,  and  I  wished  by  my  presence  to 
save  her  and  to  keep  my  promise  to  her  dying  mother. 
I  hope  that,  with  God's  help,  I  have  succeeded." 

"  At  all  events,  she  will  continue  now  to  ride.  I  always 
prophesied  that  it  would  be  so.  Now,  what  are  we  to 
do  for  my  poor  son  ?" 

"Do  nothing,"  said  the  priest  with  authority.       "I 


THE    CIRCUS  rider's    DAUGHTER.  241 

fear  too  much  has  already  been  done.  It  has  cost  the 
health  of  your  son  and  the  happiness  of  this  poor  girl. 
We  are  apt  by  misdirected  zeal  to  fall  from  one  evil  into 
a  greater." 


242  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S   DAUGHTER. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

WOULD  he  never  more  have  rest  ?  This  was  Curt's 
thought  during  the  long  night,  as  he  tossed  about 
restlessly  ;  in  the  morning  as  he  arose,  tired  and  weary  ; 
in  his  easy-chair,  as  he  sat  silent  and  alone.  The  fresh 
autumn  breeze  brought  no  relief  to  his  brow.  Since 
the  memorable  conversation  of  yesterday  his  thoughts 
were  in  a  whirl  of  trouble  which  he  could  not  appease  ; 
every  word  he  had  heard  burned  into  his  soul.  The 
flippant  way  in  which  her  name  was  used,  and  the  de- 
fence, the  respect,  and  the  tender  pity  of  the  priest  alike 
woke  doubts  of  the  justice  of  his  own  conduct.  He 
heard  the  chaplain  speak  of  a  cruel  fate  of  which  she 
had  spoken.  What  was  it  ?  Had  he  not,  perhaps,  sent 
back  the  explanation  unopened  ?  Had  he  not  con- 
demned her  unheard  ?  What  was  to  prevent  him  now 
from  going  and  finding  out  the  reason  of  what  had 
passed  ?  Would  such  an  explanation  excuse  her  for 
having  killed  love  and  broken  her  word  just  as  he  had 
given  her  proof  of  his  constancy  ?  When  he  thought 
of  the  moment  that  he  held  her  clasped  in  his  arms,  he 
could  have  cried  out  to  see  himself  so  deceived.  Then 
he  swore  never  to  let  her  name  pass  his  lips,  and  never 
to  ask  an  explanation.  He  pressed  his  hand  to  his  tem- 
ples, as  if  to  repress  all  thought. 

A  slight  noise  made  him  raise  his  head,  and  he  saw 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  243 

Lily  standing  before  him.  He  aroused  himself,  de- 
termined not  to  allow  any  one  to  witness  his  trouble  ; 
he  welcomed  his  cousin  cordially. 

She  sat  opposite  him,  and  was  evidently  absorbed  in 
some  thought  which  she  found  difficulty  in  expressing. 
At  length  she  said,  in.  a  disjointed  manner,  "  Curt, 
would  you  kindly — would  you  this  afternoon  kindly 
accompany  me  for  a  couple  of  hours  on  a  little  journey, 
which  I  would  like  to  make  with  you,  but  without  your 
mamma  ?" 

He  looked  more  astonished  than  pleased,  and  said, 
"  On  a  little  journey  with  you  ?  You  know,  dear  child, 
how  everything  tires  me.     Where  is  it  to  ?" 

His  manner  yesterday  would  perhaps  have  given  her 
reason  t6  expect  a  more  friendly  reception  ;  her  coun- 
tenance showed  plainly  her  chagrin. 

"  I  thought  that  a  drive  in  the  open  air  would  do  you 
good,"  she  said  ;  "  but  if  it  would  tire  you  so  much' — " 
and  she  prepared  to  leave  him. 

It  is  hard  for  a  man  to  refuse  the  first  request  of  one 
who  has  been  his  kind  hostess  and  faithful  nurse  for 
several  weeks.  Curt  saw  that  her  feelings  were  wound- 
ed, and  regretted  his  ungracious  answer.  The  only 
reparation  in  his  power  was  to  assure  her  that  he  was 
ready  to  be  her  attendant  knight. 

Lily's  go*od-humor  w^as  quickly  restored,  and  she  did 
not  take  long  to  take  him  at  his  word. 

"  The  journey  will  do  you  good,"  she  said,  "  and  you 
must  promise  to  do  all  I  ask  you,  and  as  I  wish.  I  shall 
explain    later.       I    take    your   mamma's    approval    for 


244  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

granted,  so  as  to  avoid  her  disapproval — that  is,  if  you 
make  no  objections,  Curtie." 

He  made  no  objections,  and  having  once  given  con- 
sent, did  not  wish  to  give  the  question  any  more  con- 
sideration. 

The  countess  was  somewhat  surprised  at  the  mysteri- 
ous projects  of  her  niece,  with  whom  she  did  not  always 
agree  on  questions  of  propriety.  She  would  not  on  any 
account  interfere  with  anything  which  tended  to  bring 
the  cousins  together,  so  she  all  the  more  now  gave  her 
consent.  Lily's  plans  were  always  so  far  removed  from 
any  extravagance,  that  there  could  be  no  harm  in  what 
she  proposed.  Like  most  quiet  people,  Lily  generally 
carried  her  point. 

"  Now  you  shall  know  your  destination,"  she  said  to 
Curt,  who,  to  her  great  annoyance,  showed  very  little 
curiosity.  "  We  are  going  to  Vienna — not  by  rail,  that 
would  be  a  pity  in  such  beautiful  weather  ;  and  the 
horses  can  make  it  in  a  couple  of  hours.  This  will  bring 
us  where  I  want  to  go,  and  leave  us  an  hour.  I  shall 
send  the  carriage  back,  with  orders  to  meet  us  at  the 
station.  Driving  in  the  evening  air  would  not  be  good 
for  you,  so  we  shall  return  by  train,  which  takes  only  a 
quarter  of  an  hour,  bringing  us  home  in  good  time. 
Have  I  not  planned  all  well  ?" 

Curt  could  only  bow  his  assent.  The  easy  motion 
and  the  soft  air  lulled  him  into  a  kind  of  half  sleep,  in 
which  his  companion's  uninteresting  conversation  was 
not  very  clear. 

At  the  end  of  two  hours  they  arrived  at  their  destina- 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  245 

tion,  and  the  horses  drew  up  before  Lily's  town  house. 
The  house  steward  officiously  opened  the  rooms,  which 
always  stood  in  readiness  for  the  young  mistress. 

It  was  the  first  time  that  Curt  had  visited  the  city 
since  his  return  from  the  East,  and  memory  crowded 
on  memory  as  he  sat  alone,  while  Lily  gave  directions 
to  the  servants.  When  she  re-entered  the  drawing- 
room,  the  steward  handed  her  tickets.  After  examining 
them  attentively,  she  said,  "  Now,  Curtie,  if  you  are 
rested,  let  us  go." 

He  looked  absently  at  the  tickets  which  she  held  in 
her  hand  and  offered  her  his  arm.  The  recollections 
which  filled  his  mind  prevented  him  thinking  seriously 
on  Lily' s  business.  "  Probably, ' '  he  thought,  "  she  wants 
to  make  some  purchases  as  a  surprise  for  some  one." 
The  last  time  he  was  here  was  the  day  on  which  he  had 
met  Nora,  when  she  pleaded  so  earnestly  with  him  not 
to  go  away.  Were  her  forebodings  prophetic  ?  Would 
not  things  have  been  different  had  he  remained  near 
her,  and  not  left  her  so  unprotected  ? 

"  Here  we  are,"  said  Lily,  stopping  before  one  of  the 
hotels.  "  There  is  some  one  I  want  to  speak  to.  Will 
you  please  enter  with  me,  and  then  leave  and  come 
for  me  in  half  an  hour  ?" 

"  Can  I  allow  this  ?"  questioned  Curt,  rather  aston- 
ished. "  I  think,  in  the  character  of  a  jealous  cousin,  I 
must  forbid  such  a  meeting." 

"  Cousins  have  no  such  right,"  Lily  answered  gayly. 
"  When  I  explain  all  to  you  later,  you  will  give  your 
approval.     Be  kind  enough  to  come  for  me  in  half  an 


246  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

hour;  I  shall  be  ready."  She  looked  at  him  implor- 
ingly. 

At  the  appointed  time  he  saw  Lily's  blue  veil  ap- 
proaching, and  hastened  to  meet  her. 

"Well,  is  the  conspiracy  working?"  he  asked  jest- 
ingly ;  but  looking  closer  at  her  face,  he  saw  unmistak- 
able traces  of  tears.  "  What  is  the  matter,  Lily  ?"  he 
added  anxiously.  Notwithstanding  the  moist  eyes,  she 
looked  at  him  smilingly,  took  his  arm,  and  walked  on 
in  silence. 

"  Now  I  shall  explain  all  to  you,"  she  said,  after  a 
while.  "  It  was  very  good  of  you  to  do  as  I  asked  of 
you  without  any  questions.  I  have  called  on  Nora 
Karsten." 

Curt  stood  as  if  electrified,  then  exclaimed  in  cold, 
hard  tones,  "  Nora  Karsten  at  the  circus  ?" 

"  Yes,  Nora  Karsten.  Do  you  find  that  so  improper? 
You  are  aware  that  I  knew  her  at  school.  I  loved  her 
most  of  all,  for  she  was  so  good  and  pious  and  kind. 
She  saved  me  from  many  a  penance,  and  consoled  me 
in  my  homesickness.  Hundreds  of  times  have  I  prom- 
ised her  that  I  would  never  forget  her.  Would  it  be 
right  in  me  to  refuse  to  recognize  her  because  she  is 
obliged  to  become  a  circus-rider  ?  Probably  her  father 
insisted  on  her  following  his  career.  When  I  heard 
yesterday  that  she  was  here  for  a  short  stay,  I  deter- 
mined to  visit  her.  Who  knows  when  I  shall  again 
have  the  opportunity  ?  I  thought  it  would  do  her  good 
to  see  that  people  still  loved  and  respected  her.  I  think 
it   is   contemptible   to    abandon    people    in    misfortune. 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  247 

M}'-  aunt  would  not  have  consented  to  my  visit  had  I 
asked  her,  and  you  would  have  thought  that  you  must 
make  objections.  I  was  right,  was  I  not,  Curtie  ?"  she 
asked,  as  she  tried  lo  see  his  face,  which  was  bowed 
low.     What  could  be  the  matter,  that  he  was  so  moved  ? 

"  Yes,"  he  said  finally,  in  a  weary  voice,  "you  were 
right.  God  bless  your  courage  !  If  you  have  done 
wrong,  it  was  in  a  noble  cause." 

"  Oh,  I  am  so  glad  you  are  not  angry,  Curt.  I  don't 
care  what  my  aunt  thinks,  but  if  you  had  disapproved 
of  it,  it  would  have  grieved  me.  Nora  is,  as  the  chap- 
lain said,  as  good  and  pious  as  ever,  and  you  can  have 
no  idea  of  her  beauty.  Her  pleasure  at  seeing  me  was 
touching  ;  but  I  do  not  believe  she  is  happy.  She 
could  not  answer  me  for  crying.  Just  think,  she  has 
to  ride  every  day.  It  is  terrible  !  I  could  not  look  at 
her.  I  told  her  that  you  had  accompanied  me,  for  she 
inquired  for  )^ou  and  my  aunt.  You  remember  when 
we  travelled  in  Switzerland  you  knew  her  as  a  little 
child.     But  she  would  not  allow  me  to  call  you." 

All  this  Lily  repeated  breathlessly,  for  the  success  of 
her  undertaking  made  her  eloquent.  She  could  have 
still  run  on,  but  Curt  heard  no  more  ;  he  seemed  bewil- 
dered. Again  Nora  was  crossing  his  path  unsought. 
Was  this  the  outcome  of  his  mental  struggle,  and  should 
he  once  more  let  the  opportunity  pass  ? 

Arrived  at  the  house,  he  said  in  a  hurried  manner, 
"  Can  you  remain  here  alone  a  little  while  ?  I  saw  in 
the  street  an  old  acquaintance  to  whom  I  want  to 
speak.     We  have  still  two  hours  to  spare." 


248  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

"Certainly,"  said  Lily,  "but  do  not  let  us  be  late 
for  the  train."  Curt  ran  down  the  stairs  and  out  into 
the  street,  as  if  he  feared  giving  himself  time  to  change 
his  mind.  What  did  he  intend  to  do  ?  He  scarcely 
knew  himself.  The  only  clear  idea  was  that  he  must 
not  let  the  opportunity  pass. 

"  Count  Degenthal  !"  cried  Nora,  a  little  later,  as  he 
stood  before  her  in  the  most  passionate  excitement — 
"  Count  Degenthal  !  You  have  no  right  to  come  here  !" 
She  tried  to  rise  haughtily,  but  fell  back  trembling. 

"  No  right  !"  he  repeated,  advancing  to  her  and  tak- 
ing her  hand  in  an  iron  grasp.  "  Who  has  robbed  me 
of  the  right  ?  Who  has  thrown  the  most  self-sacrificing 
love  in  my  face  ?  Who  has  been  disloyal  to  the  most 
sacred  promises  out  of  miserable  cowardice  or  still  more 
miserable  vanity  ?  Nora,  I  want  to  hate  you  !"  and  he 
flung  away  the  hand  he  held. 

"  Curt,  Curt,  you  do  not  believe  what  you  say  !  You 
know  that  love  was  my  only  happiness,"  she  sobbed  in 
agony. 

"  That  love,  that  love  !"  he  repeated  mockingly, 
"  that  love  which  could  not  bear  the  first  trial." 

These  harsh  words  seemed  to  restore  Nora's  former 
pride.  She  rose,  deathly  pale  but  resolute  ;  her  lips 
trembled,  but  she  said  distinctly,  "  You  have  no  right 
to  condemn  me,  for  I  confided  all  to  you,  and  you 
would  not  hear  me." 

The  reproach  struck  him,  and  as  she  stood  there,  so 
lovely,  so  pure,  no  stain  on  her  brow,  her  clear  eye 
looking  him  straight  in  the  face,  the  old  love  returned. 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  249 

and  he  cried,  "  Nora,  Nora,  why  did  you  do  it  ? 
Do  you  know  what  I  suffered  ?  Look  at  me  ;  do  you 
recognize  me  ?  In  what  have  I  deserved  this  treatment 
from  you  ?" 

"  Forgive  me,  forgive  me,"  she  besought,  as  she  threw 
her  hands  over  her  face.  "  Oh,  my  God  !  It  was  not 
my  fault  ;  it  was  a  frightful  sacrifice  !  Oh,  why  was 
not  my  life  and  not  thine  the  price  !" 

"  Do  you  believe  my  life  is  worth  living,  Nora,  since 
that  hour  in  which  my  idol  fell  ?  Nora,  Nora,  tell 
me  !"  He  stopped  as  if  unable  to  say  more,  drew  her 
to  him,  and  dragged  her  hands  from  her  face.  His 
eyes  fairly  glared  on  her,  as  though  he  would  read  her 
through  and  through. 

"  Too  late,  too  late  !"  she  whispered.  "  Oh,  Curt, 
had  you  but  been  here  !" 

Her  head  sank  on  his  shoulder,  and  she  burst  into 
tears  as  she  threw  her  arms  around  his  neck. 

"  I  am  here  now,  Nora,  I  am  here  now,"  he  said, 
overwhelmed  by  her  grief  and  pressing  his  lips  to  her 
bent  head.  "  Now  all  can  be  changed  ;  it  is  never  too 
late  for  love." 

"  Oh,  yes  ;  too  late,  too  late  !  The  waves  have  closed 
above  my  head.  Even  you  cannot  save  me.  What  is 
done  cannot  be  undone.  You  have  said  that  that  hour 
trailed  me  in  the  dust.  I  know  it.  Now  I  am  unworthy 
of  your  love  ;  now  I  could  not  accept  it.  Go,  Curt, 
leave  me.     Oh,  why  did  you  come  ?" 

"  To  obtain  what  I  now  demand.  My  heart  has 
known  no  rest  since  chance  so  wonderfully  brought  us 


350  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

together,  and  when  I  again  lost  you.  Now  I  will  have 
an  explanation  ;  no  secret  intrigue  shall  again  separate 
us.  You  know  that  you  were  all,  all  to  me,  and  in  spite 
of  all  that  man  can  do  I  shall  make  you  mine.  Nora, 
speak." 

"  No,  no,  you  cannot.  It  is  too  late  ;"  she  tore  her- 
self from  his  arms,  and  said  almost  breathlessly,  "  Some 
one  is  coming.  Oh,  that  terrible  man  !  Go,  you  shall 
know  all  ;  but  now  go.  Curt — go." 

"  Why  ?"  asked  Curt  ;  but  there  was  a  knock  at  the 
door,  and  at  the  same  moment  it  was  opened. 

Landolfo  entered,  and  a  cunning  smile  overspread  his 
countenance  as  he  looked  at  the  pair. 

"  Count  Degenthal,"  he  said,  with  a  mocking  bow. 
"  Miss  Nora,  I  have  come  for  you  ;  it  is  time  for  you  to 
appear." 

"  Thank  you,  sir  ;  my  father  always  comes  for  me." 

"  Your  father  sent  me  for  you.  Had  I  known  that 
you  were  in  such  agreeable  company,  I  would  not  have 
dared  to  disturb  you,"  he  said,  laying  particular  stress 
on  agreeable  company.  "  Probably  your  appearance  can 
be  excused  if  I  mention  to  your  father — "  He  stood 
near  her,  as  if  by  right,  and  looked  at  Curt  with  im- 
pudent inquisitiveness. 

"  I  will  go  myself  to  my  father,"  replied  Nora  with 
dignity.      "  Count  Degenthal,  I  fear  we  must  now  part." 

She  gave  him  her  hand,  which  he  clasped  in  his  own, 
saying,  "  I  shall  go,  for  my  time  also  is  up  ;  but,  Nora, 
I  shall  return,  when  everything  shall  be  explained. 
Look  for  me  in  a  few  days." 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  251 

He  emphasized  the  words  as  if  strengthening  his  own 
resolution,  and  at  the  same  time  impressing  it  on  the 
man  still  standing  there. 

Landolfo  answered  by  a  disagreeable,  ominous  smile, 
which  Nora  did  not  seem  to  notice  ;  but  there  was  a 
weary  doubt  in  her  tones  as  she  repeated,  "In  a  few 
days." 

Curt  hastened  out,  and  threw  himself  into  a  cab. 
Although  he  had  had  no  explanation,  it  seemed  to  him 
that  a  load  was  removed  from  his  heart.  He  had  seen 
her,  spoken  with  her,  and  crossed  the  abyss  which  had 
separated  her  from  him.  He  had  read  in  her  coun- 
tenance that  unfortunate  circumstances  alone  had  forced 
her  to  decide  as  she  had  ;  she  had  called  it  a  sacrifice, 
and  he  was  convinced  that  a  false  sense  of  duty  had 
alone  influenced  her. 

Should  he  allow  her  to  be  torn  from  him  because  she 
had  not  had  strength  to  overcome  the  circumstances  ? 
The  old  feeling  of  boyhood,  that  he  must  be  her  pro- 
tector, returned.  Love  overcame  every  other  feeling. 
Yes  ;  in  a  few  days  he  would  return.  Only  those  who 
have  known  the  agony  of  doubt  can  understand  his 
feelings. 

He  returned  to  his  cousin,  but  did  not  find  her  alone. 
A  broad-shouldered  man  in  travelling  costume,  holding 
a  Panama  hat  in  his  hand,  was  sitting  by  her,  and  he 
turned  around  as  Curt  entered. 

Dahnow,"  cried  the  latter,  stretching  out  his  hand, 
"  old  friend,  where  did  you  come  from  ?" 

"  Come  back  to   European  civilization   from   a   little 


252  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

three  years'  trip,"  said  he,  grasping  the  outstretched 
hand.  "  I  intended  to  hunt  you  up  before  returning  to 
my  northern  home,  when  I  had  given  certain  learned 
authorities  here  the  benefit  of  my  remarkable  investiga- 
tions. My  inquiries  after  you  and  your  family  led  to 
the  discovery  of  your  presence,  and  Countess  Lily  has 
had  the  goodness  to  receive  me  graciously.  Now  you 
have  my  cnriculum  vita.  I  never  had  very  exhilarating 
news  from  you,  old  fellow — heard  that  you  were  sick  ; 
but  now  you  seem  quite  recovered,"  said  Dahnow,  sur- 
prised at  Curt's  flushed  cheeks  and  bright  eyes. 

"  Curt,"  inquired  Lily  anxiously,  "  do  you  feel  fever- 
ish ?  Has  the  ride  been  too  much  for  you  ?  I  shall 
never  forgive  myself  if  it  has." 

"  Do  not  be  uneasy,  little  cousin,"  he  replied,  seating 
himself  by  her  on  the  sofa.  "  It  was  a  grand  idea  of 
yours.  I  cannot  tell  you  how  much  I  enjoyed  every- 
thing, and  how  grateful  I  am  to  you,  and  all  the  day 
has  done  for  me.  No,  I  thank  you,"  he  added,  putting 
aside  the  cushion  which  she  reached  him,  but  taking 
the  hand  that  held  it,  and  adding,  "  Dahnow,  you  do 
not  know  what  a  dear  hand  this  is,  and  what  an  amiable 
soul  she  is.     We  men  are  barbarians." 

Degenthal  was  reviewing  in  his  mind  Lily's  loyal 
friendship  for  Nora,  and  how  it  liad  been  the  means  of 
his  meeting  the  latter.  Lily  blushed,  and  withdrawing 
her  hand,  said  laughingly,  "  Do  not  talk  such  foolish- 
ness." 

"  He  seems  very  much  in  earnest,  countess,"  said 
Dahnow,   looking  at  them   both  sliarply.       "  Ah  !    it  is 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDERS    DAUGHTER.  253 

my  fate,"  thought  Dahnow,  "it  is  my  fate.  Here, 
after  three  years,  I  come  from  the  equator  to  find  him 
again  love-making.  Poor  Nora  seems  to  be  forgotten  ; 
my  letter  did  not  bear  much  fruit.  Well,  perhaps  this 
is  more  sensible  ;  but  I  wonder  what  has  become  of 
Nora." 

Dahnow  stood  up  to  leave.  To  the  urgent  invitation 
of  Lily,  he  answered,  "  In  a  few  days  I  shall  come  to 
Gohlitz."  Curt  whispered  to  him,  "Come  soon,  I 
have  something  to  tell  you." 

"  As  though  I  had  not  guessed  it,"  was  the  reply. 

"  I  thank  God  the  ride  has  done  you  good,"  said 
Lily,  on  their  return  home.  "  You  seem  strengthened. 
We  must  be  silent  as  to  the  cause  of  our  journey.  I 
thank  you  for  having  accompanied  me." 

"It  is  I  who  should  thank  you,"  replied  Curt. 
"What  you  did  to  day  is  a  proof  of  your  good  heart. 
Lily,  in  a  few  days  I  shall  tell  you,  and  I  shall  count  on 
your  loving  support."  He  would  have  added  more, 
but  Lily  left  him,  evidently  greatly  excited. 


254  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

IN  a  few  days  !  It  is  pleasant  to  determine  dates  ;  it 
gives  a  feeling  of  command  of  time  ;  and  yet  afetv 
days  embraces  as  much  uncertainty  as  the  far  future. 

"  In  a  few  days  !"  thought  Nora;  and  although  she  had 
said,  "  It  is  too  late  !"  her  heart  fluttered  with  expecta- 
tion and  joy.  He  had  come  !  He  was  coming  again  ! 
His  voice  had  trembled  !  Had  he  at  last  understood  ? 
Had  love  prevailed  ?  Nora  would  not  allow  herself  to 
hope.  Over  and  over  again  she  determined  to  be 
strong  and  not  permit  him  to  make  any  sacrifice  for 
her.  But  belief  is  so  strong  in  the  young  heart  that  it 
is  ever  ready  with  its  suggestions  of  possibilities.  One 
thought  filled  Nora's  heart  with  the  purest  joy.  She 
could  open  her  whole  heart  to  him.  She  had  no  reason 
to  shun  his  eye,  and  this  made  her  tremble  at  the  recol- 
lection of  what  an  abyss  she  had  lately  stood  by. 

"  In  a  few  days  !"  thought  Curt,  and  he  closed  his  ears 
to  all  considerations  which  fear,  pride,  and  distrust 
whispered  to  him.  After  the  first  burst  of  emotion  had 
passed,  he  made  up  his  mind  that  he  would  not  allow 
his  love  to  be  torn  from  him  again. 

"  In  a  few  days!"  said  Lily,  as  she  laid  her  golden 
locks  on  her  pillow,  and  hardly  dared  express  to  her- 
self all  that  she  hoped  for  in  the  next  few  days. 
"  When  he  is  once  mine  I  shall  nurse  him  back  to  good 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  255 

health.  He  has  grown  better  here,"  she  said  with 
pride.  Some  women  express  the  happiness  of  love  by 
**  when  he  is  mine  ;"  others  by  "  when  I  am  his."  A 
slight  but  characteristic  difference.  Lily  was  one  of 
the  former. 

A  few  days  after  the  trip  of  Curt  and  Lily  to  the  city, 
the  whole  populace  seemed  to  awaken  from  a  night- 
mare, which,  like  all  bits  of  scandal,  was  fed  both  by 
genuine  interest  and  mere  curiosity.  Concerning  as  it 
did  very  well-known  people,  the  matter  in  question 
kept  the  public  tongue  busy.  It  began  on  the  evening 
of  an  especially  advertised  programme  at  the  Karsten 
circus.  The  audience  was  already  assembled  in  large 
numbers,  when  it  was  announced  that  there  would  be 
no  performance  "  on  account  of  the  sudden  illness  of 
the  director."  The  excitement  among  the  members  of 
the  troupe,  and  the  absence  of  Landolfo,  who  always 
represented  the  director,  gave  food  for  the  wildest  re- 
ports. It  was  whispered  that  Herr  Karsten  had  had  a 
stroke  of  apoplexy,  caused  by  discovering  the  elopement 
of  his  daughter,  or,  as  others  said,  his  wife,  with  his 
manager. 

The  rumors  took  the  wildest  phases,  from  the  gravest 
tragedy  to  the  most  absurd  commonplace,  according  to 
the  source. from  which  they  sprung.  Some  insisted  that 
it  was  not  the  director's  daughter  but  his  wife  who  had 
fled.  This,  however,  found  little  credence  on  account 
of  the  accepted  relationship  of  the  charming  Nora  to 
the  manager  ;  and  besides,  the  wife's  beauty  was  de- 
cidedly on  the  wane. 


256  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

The  daily  papers  were  not  behind  in  furnishing  de- 
tails ;  and  yet  it  was  difficult  to  find  cause  for  the  elope- 
ment, for,  as  far  as  could  be  learned,  there  was  no 
opposition  to  the  engagement.  Soon  it  was  whispered 
that  the  manager  had  been  found  guilty  of  heavy  frauds. 

Some  particular  admirers  of  the  director  and  some 
of  those  natural  scandalmongers  of  which  every  city 
has  its  share  went  to  the  hotel  where  Karsten  and  his 
family  stopped  on  a  voyage  of  discovery.  They  failed 
in  their  purpose,  for  the  entire  family  kept  the  strictest 
seclusion.  The  physician  pronounced  the  director's 
condition  very  critical,  or,  at  all  events,  threatening  to 
be  an  illness  of  long  duration. 

As  to  the  cause  of  the  illness,  the  head  steward 
shrewdly  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  hinted  that  there 
had  lately  been  misunderstandings  in  the  family.  The 
chambermaid  told  of  a  scene  which  had  occurred  be- 
tween the  director  and  his  daughter,  and  then  she  and 
the  head  steward  smiled  meaningly.  The  director  was 
reported  to  have  been  in  the  habit  of  indulging  in  heavy 
breakfasts,  which  were  trying  to  his  constitution.  If 
the  director  was  tired,  Landolfo  used  to  be  a  good  deal 
with  the  ladies.  The  porter  remembered  that  on  the 
memorable  day  one  of  the  ladies,  veiled  and  in  travel- 
ling costume,  came  down-stairs  with  Landolfo,  and  en- 
tered a  cab  with  him.  Landolfo  had  on  several  occa- 
sions conducted  the  ladies  to  rehearsal.  One  evening 
there  was  great  excitement  upstairs,  and  the  physician 
was  called  ;  but  ever  since,  as  before  mentioned,  nothing 
could  be  learned,  the  wife  devoting  herself  completely 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  257 

to  the  care  of  her  husband  and   son,  not  calling  on  the 
servants  of  the  house  for  anything. 

With  these  unsatisfactory  details  the  newsmongers 
were  forced  to  retire.  The  whole  affair  would  have 
soon  sunk  into  oblivion  had  not  a  new  feature  come  to 
light,  which  was  of  particular  interest  to  the  most  ex- 
clusive circles  of  society.  One  of  the  most  universally 
read  papers  had  an  article  which  explained  the  elope- 
ment to  its  own  satisfaction.  It  hinted  at  a  three  years 
old  love  affair  between  the  pretty  Nora  and  a  certain 
well-known  baron.  The  father  of  the  lady  had  favored 
the  connection  in  spite  of  the  opposition  of  the  T) — t — al 
family,  who  left  nothing  undone  to  save  the  young  heir 
from  the  net,  even  having  him  appointed  to  a  distant 
diplomatic  position.  The  father  had  been  instrumental 
in  arranging  several  meetings  for  the  lovers.  At  length, 
as  the  baron's  family  had  succeeded  in  completely 
breaking  off  the  connection,  it  was  decided  to  let  the 
young  woman  adopt  a  public  career,  and  to  cease  oppo- 
sition to  her  marriage  with  the  manager.  Either  through 
mortification  at  losing  the  noble  suitor  or  through  change 
of  purpose,  the  pretty  Nora  consented  and  became  en- 
gaged. After  three  years'  absence  Count  D sud- 
denly reappears,  and  declares  anew  his  passion.  The 
father's  desire  to  see  his  daughter  occupy  a  higher 
sphere  awakens,  and  he  dismisses  his  manager.  The 
latter,  however,  insisted  on  his  rights,  and  fled  with  his 

affianced.      Count  D had  been  seen  in  the  hotel  two 

days  before  the  elopement,  and  was  surprised  by  Lan- 
dolfo  in  an  interview  with  his  intended. 


258  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

The  whole  story  was  flavored  with  a  mystery  well 
calculated  to  whet  the  appetites  of  the  readers.  The 
probabilities  and  the  improbabilities,  even  the  incon- 
sistencies of  the  fabrication,  were  second  to  the  fact 
that  the  name  of  one  of  the  first  families  was  mixed  up 
in  it. 

This  ensured  for  it  a  field  of  conjecture,  spite,  and 
condolence. 

The  elopement  story  and  the  sudden  departure  and 
reappearance  of  Curt  revived  a  rumor  which  had  come 
from  the  banks  of  the  Rhine.  Mothers  who  had  looked 
upon  him  as  a  desirable  match  now  remembered  his 
indifference  to  ladies'  society,  which  never  augurs  good. 
The  young  men  to  whom  he  had  been  held  up  as  a 
model  laughed  over  the  outcome,  and  made  merry  over 
Nora's  supposed  prudery.  The  older  men  put  their 
heads  together  and  consulted  as  to  what  steps  to  take 
when  people  offend  society. 

The  world  accepts  readily  and  overlooks  much  as 
long  as  it  can  ignore,  but  revenges  in  proportion  when 
it  has  to  acknowledge.  Many  and  various  were  the 
judgments  ;  some  sympathized  with  the  mother,  while 
the  lovers  of  scandal  decided  that  there  must  be  some 
truth  in  the  story. 

The  news  fell  like  a  thunderbolt  on  the  family  circle 
at  Gohlitz.  The  countess  read  of  the  elopement  of 
Nora  and  Landolfo,  and  expressed  herself  as  not  sur- 
prised. She  handed  the  paper  to  Lily,  as  a  comment 
on  the  opinions  so  lately  expressed  by  her.  The  latter 
was   very    much    excited,    and,    with  her    never-failing 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  259 

loyalty,     exclaimed,    "It     is     not     true  ;    Nora   is    too 
good." 

"  My  child,"  said  her  aunt  in  an  impressive  man- 
ner, "  years  of  such  surroundings  would  change  any 
one." 

"  But  Nora  is  not  changed,"  asserted  the  little  friend. 
"  It  is  an  indescribable  trial  to  her  that  she  is  obliged 
to  follow  this  hateful  career.  It  is  only  her  love  for 
her  father  that  induces  her  to  do  it." 

"  How  do  you  know  ?"  questioned  her  aunt,  fixing 
her  eyes  upon  her. 

Lily's  cheeks  turned  a  deeper  red,  but,  with  a  full 
sense  of  her  independence,  she  returned  the  look  and 
answered,  "  Because  I  have  seen  her  and  spoken  to  her 
within  a  few  days.  It  was  for  the  express  purpose  of 
seeing  her  that  I  took  that  long  ride  with  Curt." 

"With  Curt?  You  took  Curt  to  her?"  asked  the 
countess,  hardly  above  her  breath,  and  the  deathly  pal- 
lor which  overspread  her  countenance  frightened  Lily, 
who  answered  : 

"  Not  to  see  her.  I  merely  asked  him  to  accompany 
me,  because  I  did  not  dare  confide  in  Miss  Richthoben, 
It  was  only  afterward  that  Curt  knew  whom  I  had  vis- 
ited, and  he  did  not  blame  me." 

"Did  he  meet  her?"  asked  her  aunt,  somewhat  re- 
lieved. 

No  ;  he  escorted  me  to  her  residence  without  know- 
ing, as  I  said,  whom  I  wished  to  visit.  I  cannot  see  any 
impropriety  in  going  on  a  little  drive  with  my  cousin, 
with  whom  I  have  been  brought   up,  and  appearing  on 


26o  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

the  street  with  him,"  said  the  little  mistress  of  Gohlitz, 
in  her  own  decided  manner,  as  she  left  her  aunt. 

The  countess  was  silent  ;  she  was  glad  that  Lily  was 
sensitive  on  the  point  with  which  she  had  no  intention 
of  finding  fault.  She  began  to  fear  that  the  chaplain 
was  right.  Was  all  her  management  useless,  and  was 
it  out  of  her  power  to  control  this  matter  ?  It  seemed 
impossible  to  save  her  son  ;  she  would  like  to  keep  all 
the  gossip  from  him,  in  order  not  to  awaken  old  mem- 
ories ;  but  she  thought  it  best  to  let  facts  open  his  eyes, 
and  serve  as  a  corrective  to  the  praises  of  Nora  which 
he  had  been  hearing  lately.  With  this  object  she  sent 
to  her  son's  room  the  papers,  where  he  could  read  for 
himself.  "A  cauterized  wound  heals  the  quickest," 
she  said  to  herself.  And,  indeed,  like  a  brand  the  news 
burned  into  the  soul  of  Curt.  He  stared  at  the  papers, 
and  gnashed  his  teeth.  He  did  not  say  with  Lily,  "  It 
is  not  true."  Want  of  confidence,  nursed  through  long 
years,  precluded  this,  and  his  love  was  mortally  wound- 
ed. He  was  not  overpowered  as  in  time  gone  by  ;  he 
had  grown  used  to  sorrow  and  disappointment.  Facts 
stared  him  in  the  face,  and  dashed  to  pieces  the  new- 
born hope  and  belief  in  her  which  had  begun  to  return. 
Deceived  again,  baffled  again  !  Was  this,  then,  the 
cause  of  her  secrecy  ?  Was  this  the  meaning  of  her 
words,  "  Too  late  !"  which  he  had  heard  from  her  own 
lips  ?  He  had  seen  this  man  enter  her  room  as  if  he  had 
a  right.  He  had  noticed  his  cold  smile  and  mocking 
sneer  as  they  parted.  He  recalled  with  what  an  expres- 
sion of  right  this  man  had   met  her  at  the  train.      All 


THE    CIRCUS  rider's    DAUGHTER.  261 

was  explained  now  ;  for  a  truth  she  did  not  exaggerate 
when  she  said  that  she  "  had  sunken  in  the  dust"  if  she 
acknowledged  the  dominion  of  such  a  creature.  As  for 
himself,  he  who  had  madly  sworn  to  raise  her,  he  who 
had  put  aside  all  public  opinion  and  his  own  principles 
for  her  sake,  was  again  betrayed. 

He  determined  to  hide  all  feeling  of  grief  or  humilia- 
tion. It  seemed  to  him  that  every  one  could  read  the 
thoughts  and  actions  of  the  last  few  days  written  on  his 
brow,  and  scorned  his  weakness.  Above  all,  he  feared 
his  mother's  gaze. 

When  the  countess  inquired  for  her  son,  she  was  told 
that  some  important  dispatch  had  called  him  away  ; 
that  he  had  gone  on  foot  to  the  station,  and  would  re- 
turn or  write  in  a  few  days.  She  was  terrified,  and 
wondered  if  she  had  acted  inconsiderately.  Lily's  head 
drooped  when  she  heard  of  her  cousin's  sudden  depar- 
ture. She  wanted  to  make  him  the  confidant  of  her 
troubles  on  Nora's  account. 

Another  trial  awaited  the  countess.  The  old  diplomat 
appeared  one  day  at  Gohlitz  with  a  serious  coun- 
tenance, and  requested  a  conference.  The  man  was 
one  who  looked  unpleasant  things  in  the  face.  Every 
article  or  even  report  which  tended  to  make  Curt's 
name  public  was  studied  over  by  him.  The  countess 
was  perfectly  helpless.  Fate  had  indeed  taken  revenge 
on  her.  She  had  left  nothing  undone  to  prevent  those 
two  names  being  connected,  and  now  she  saw  them 
brought  together  into  publicity  in  the  commonest  way. 
She  almost  fainted  as  her  old   friend  dwelt  on  each  de- 


262  THE    CIRCUS  rider's    DAUGHTER. 

tail,  and  was  indignant  when  she  read  the  papers.  Her 
natural  pride  prompted  her  not  to  believe  it,  but  the 
information  gained  from  Lily  left  no  shadow  that  Curt 
was  in  the  city  that  memorable  day.  She  had  to  ac- 
knowledge that  at  the  first  appearance  of  these  articles 
he  had  left,  and  she  did  not  know  his  destination.  She 
was  prepared  for  anything,  and  the  old  diplomat  grew 
graver  and  graver.  He  promised  all  the  power  of  his 
influence  to  hush  the  matter  up,  but  he  thought  the 
young  baron  was,  to  say  the  least,  very  imprudent. 

"  All  this  comes  from  the  excursions  of  independent 
young  ladies,"  she  said  with  evident  irritation  to  her 
niece,  having  given  up  all  hope  of  being  able  to  keep 
the  latter  in  ignorance  of  the  universally  discussed  scan- 
dal. In  the  bitterness  of  her  mortification  she  did  not 
spare  Lily's  feelings,  for  she  now  looked  on  all  as  lost. 

Lily  listened  to  her  aunt's  words,  and  having  read 
the  objectionable  newspapers  through,  said  quietly, 
"  But  this  is  just  as  untrue  as  what  they  said  about 
Nora.  Neither  Curt  nor  Nora  would  have  done  these 
things.  Some  one  who  wished  to  injure  him  has  writ- 
ten this.  As  soon  as  it  comes  to  Curt's  knowledge  he 
will,  of  course,  deny  it." 

"  God  bless  your  little  head,"  said  the  countess,  im- 
patient at  the  simple  way  in  which  Lily  disposed  of  the 
whole  thing.  She  herself  knew  the  world  better,  and 
fully  realized  all  the  consequences.  Her  favorite 
"  What  is  to  be  done?"  presented  itself  to  her  mind. 
For  the  first  time,  Lily,  too,  had  the  same  thought,  in- 
cited by  both  love  and   pride.     So  Curt   loved   Nora  ! 


THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER.  263 

Was  this  the  cause  of  all  his  unhappiness  and  his  long 
absence  from  his  home,  ail  his  depression  ?  But  an  un- 
fortunate love  affair  always  finds  an  echo  in  the  true 
girl's  heart.  Lily's  admiration  for  Nora's  beauty  and 
character  made  her  understand  Curt's  sorrow,  and  the 
natural  prudence  which  was  so  marked  in  her  made  her 
feel  how  impossible  it  would  be  for  them  ever  to  marry. 
She  immediately  began  to  plan  how  she  could  alleviate 
her  cousin's  grief  and  prevent  him  from  again  leaving 
his  home. 

She  decided  that  the  chaplain  was  the  best  person  to 
apply  to,  as  he  knew  both  Curt  and  Nora  so  well,  and 
indeed  she  thought  it  probable  that  the  former  had 
already  gone  to  him.  Each  line  of  the  letter  that  she 
wrote  the  chaplain  was  full  of  thoughtfulness  and  sym- 
pathy, while  at  the  same  time  it  betrayed  the  secret  love 
which  inspired  both. 

As  the  wounded  animal  flies  to  the  solitude  of  the 
wilderness,  so  Curt  sought  to  hide  his  sorrow  in  the 
quiet  of  his  home.  He  had  to  pass  through  Vienna, 
and  for  a  moment  he  was  tempted  to  make  inquiries 
concerning  the  newspaper  reports  ;  but  no,  they  were 
too  minute  to  leave  room  for  doubt,  and  there  could  be 
no  mistake  concerning  the  movements  of  one  so  well 
known  as  Nora.  Why  should  he  remain  longer  in 
doubt  ?  Had  not  her  own  lips  confessed  that  it  was 
"  too  late"  ?  It  was  only  his  own  mad  passion  that 
prevented  him  seeing  it.  What  he  had  mistaken  for 
love  and  loyalty  was  but  bitter  repentance,  perhaps  the 
last  remnant  of  her  former  self. 


264  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

The  retainers  at  the  old  castle  were  surprised  at  the 
unannounced  return  of  the  young  master,  as  they  were 
looking  forward  to  his  triumphant  return  with  his 
mother,  after  so  long  an  absence,  "  entirely  recovered," 
as  the  countess's  letters  loved  to  describe  him.  They 
all  shrugged  their  shoulders  and  shook  their  heads  as 
they  looked  at  his  pale  face  and  received  his  cold  greet- 
ing, Even  to  the  chaplain  he  was  reserved,  and  ac- 
counted for  his  quiet  home-coming  by  asserting  his  dis- 
like for  excitement. 

The  chaplain,  who  had  heard  nothing  of  what  had 
occurred,  believed  him  suffering  from  a  struggle  with 
his  own  feelings,  and  judged  it  best  to  leave  him  to 
himself. 

Curt  spent  hours  alone  in  his  room,  or  taking  long 
rides  in  the  country.  The  neighbors  shook  their  heads, 
the  servants  wondered,  and  the  chaplain  began  to  doubt 
his  own  judgment,  when  Lily's  letter  solved  the  ques- 
tion for  him.  Although  he  placed  as  little  credence  as 
Lily  herself  in  the  newspaper  articles,  he  was  shocked 
beyond  expression,  and  he  knew  enough  of  the  world  to 
thoroughly  understand  the  disagreeable  results  of  such 
sensational  gossip.  Deciding  that  it  was  time  to  speak, 
he  sought  Curt  in  his  room,  taking  with  him  the  mail 
which  had  just  arrived.  Curt  looked  over  it  indiffer- 
ently, taking  only  one  letter  addressed  in  Dahnow's 
well-known  hand.  He  looked  anxiously  at  the  chap- 
lain, in  whose  face  he  read  that  he  was  withholding 
something.  The  latter  handed  him  the  offensive  paper 
and  Lily's  letter. 


THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER.  265 

Curt  read  the  article  through,  and  then  his  pent-up 
anger  of  days  broke  forth  in  a  wild  torrent  of  words, 
and  he  threw  the  paper  violently  from  him. 

"  It  is  all  right,"  he  said,  with  a  bitter  laugh.  "  No 
one  can  touch  pitch  without  being  defiled.  In  my  mad 
love  I  mistook  rotten  wood  for  a  precious  stone.  It 
serves  me  right.  He  who  walks  with  the  low  becomes 
low.  And  all  this  for  a  pair  of  languishing  eyes  ! 
Laugh  at  me,  chaplain  ;  laugh  at  me  as  the  rest  of  the 
world  will  ;  but  you,  too,  have  been  deceived  ;  you, 
too,  expressed  the  highest  respect  for  her." 

"Curt,"  replied  the  priest  seriously,  "how  much 
truth  is  there  in  the  assertion  that  you  met  her  ?  As 
for  these  base  insinuations,  Nora  is  as  innocent  as  you." 

"  Innocent  ?  Yes,  she  looked  so  horribly  innocent 
that  I  did  not  even  believe  her  own  words.  At  least, 
she  was  honest  enough  to  warn  me  that  it  was  too  late." 

"  Then  it  is  true  that  you  saw  her  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  saw  her,"  said  Curt  defiantly  ;  "  I  sought  her 
as  soon  as  Lily  had  left  her.  I  wanted  to  acquit  myself 
of  the  reproach  of  having  condemned  her  unheard  ;  I 
wished  to  save  her,  and  would  have  braved  everything 
in  the  effort,  she  looked  so  pure  and  innocent.  My 
God,  how  madly  I  loved  her  !"   he  cried  out  in  agony. 

"  And  that  man  found  you  there?"  asked  the  chap- 
lain, in  his  quiet  way.  "  Then  this  article  is  but  the 
fruit  of  hatred  and  envy.  Curt,  tell  me  all  that  occurred 
during  the  visit." 

Curt  related,  in  broken  sentences,  all  that  he  remem- 
bered of  his  visit  to  Nora. 


266  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

"  She  herself  told  you  it  was  too  late  ?  She  promised 
you  an  explanation,  and  requested  you  to  leave  ?  There 
is  some  mystery.  God  alone  knows  what  drove  the 
poor  girl  to  this  unfortunate  step." 

"  Pretence,  all  pretence  !"  cried  Curt  bitterly.  "  This 
career  was  her  taste  from  the  beginning.  My  mother 
was  right  in  prophesying  that  her  education  would  only 
serve  to  make  her  a  clever  intriguer." 

"  Curt,"  replied  the  chaplain,  with  authority,  "  do  not 
let  your  hatred  be  as  reckless  as  your  love.  It  is  a 
serious  matter  to  misjudge.  When  we  think  ourselves 
most  secure,  we  are  often  in  greatest  danger." 

He  did  not  dare  say  more,  fearing  to  awaken  a 
love  which  he  believed  only  slumbering,  or  a  resentment 
which  he  believed  unjust. 

"  Read  your  cousin's  letter,"  he  suggested  ;  "  then 
we  can  talk  over  the  unfortunate  matter,  and  judge 
what  is  best  to  do." 

"  My  social  position  is  destroyed,"  said  Curt,  with 
returning  anger.  "  No  matter  how  independent  one 
may  feel,  no  one  likes  to  see  himself  generally  criticised 
by  his  acquaintances" — and  Curt  saw  in  all  its  bearings 
the  light  in  which  his  connection  with  Nora  Karsten 
would  be  viewed.  "  My  poor  mother  !"  he  murmured, 
as  he  thought  with  regret  how  he  had  received  her  ad- 
monitions. 

"  These  are  but  slanders  of  which  you  are  innocent," 
said  the  priest.  "  Do  not  go  to  Vienna  for  some  time. 
Your  health  is  sufficient  excuse  for  your  absence.  By 
degrees  this  scandal  will   be   forgotten.     In  the   mean 


THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER.  267 

time,  I  shall  make  inquiries,  and  contradict  whatever  is 
necessary.  That  man,  I  believe,  was  the  writer  of  the 
article.      Poor  Nora  !" 

The  good  priest  thought  sadly  on  the  apparent  close 
of  a  life  which  had  begun  so  brightly,  until  he  almost 
feared  being  tempted  jto  doubt  Providence  ;  but  the 
recollection  of  Nora's  earnestness  of  purpose  and  the 
self-sacrificing  motive  of  her  action  convinced  him  that 
she  was  innocent.  "  Surely,"  he  said  to  himself,  "  the 
poor  child  is  being  led  through  difficult  paths,  and  her 
dying  mother's  prayer  was  not  for  her  happiness, 
but  her  salvation.  God's  flowers  grow  in  every 
soil." 

Curt  remained  in  a  painfully  excited  state  of  mind, 
and  yet  these  facts,  painful  though  they  were,  were 
easier  to  bear  than  the  uncertainty  of  the  previous  days. 
He  took  up  his  cousin's  letter,  and  as  he  read  the  sim- 
ple, affectionate  words,  he  murmured  to  himself,  "  Loyal 
little  heart."  Where  he  had  given  so  much,  he  had  re- 
ceived nothing  but  ingratitude  and  deception,  while 
where  he  had  given  nothing  everything  was  offered  to 
him.  "  Loyal  little  heart."  he  repeated,  as  he  pressed 
the  letter,  written,  it  must  be  confessed,  in  a  very  bad 
hand.  Her  amiable,  even  temper  and  well-ordered 
domestic  life  stood  out  in  happy  relief  when  compared 
with  Nora's  exciting,  wandering  career. 

There  are  hours  of  weariness  when  the  even,  beaten 
paths  please  more  than  the  most  attractive  landscape. 

Next  Curt  took  up  Dahnow's  letter,  which  ran  as 
follows  : 


268  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

"  I  hope  that  my  tardiness  in  acknowledging  your 
and  your  amiable  cousin's  invitation  will  be  excused. 
Indeed,  I  base  my  hopes  on  the  belief  that  my  presence 
was  not  missed.  Unless  I  am  very  much  mistaken,  you 
are  both  in  that  state  of  mind  which  can  dispense  with 
visitors.  Allow  me,  as  one  of  your  old  friends,  to  offer 
my  congratulations.  I  rejoice  most  heartily  at  your 
choice.  Anticipating  the  formal  announcement,  old 
friend,  I  remain, 

"  Dahnow." 

This  letter  seemed  to  Curt  the  supplement  to  his 
thoughts.  The  knowledge  of  being  loved  was  sweet  to 
his  heart,  and  he  knew  that  the  announcement  of  his 
engagement  to  Lily  would  be  the  quickest  means  of 
silencing  all  this  mortifying  gossip. 

"  Loyal  little  heart,"  he  repeated  once  more,  and  his 
soul  was  filled,  if  not  with  love,  at  least  with  gratitude 
for  Lily.  And  yet  it  was  not  Lily's  eyes  nor  L'ly's 
figure  that  were  present  to  him  during  the  sleepless 
night. 

The  next  morning  the  chaplain  was  surprised  by 
being  handed  a  note  from  Curt,  saying  : 

"  I  am  starting  for  G()hlitz.  There  it  will  be  decided 
whether  I  again  go  abroad.     I'ray  for  me. 

"  Degenthal." 


THE    CIRCUS  rider's    DAUGHTER.  269 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

WHILE  all  these  scenes  were  taking  place,  a  pale- 
faced  maiden  sat  by  the  sick-bed  of  her  father, 
who  was  lying  unconscious,  the  victim  of  an  apoplectic 
stroke.  She  only  left  her  place  to  go  into  an  adjoining 
room,  where  a  lonely  child  pressed  his  little  face  against 
the  window-pane,  asking  continually,  "  When  will 
mamma  come  back  ?"  Nora,  whom  the  reader  has  rec- 
ognized, took  the  curly-headed  darling,  whose  likeness 
to  her  and  to  her  father  left  little  doubt  of  its  identity, 
upon  her  knee,  and  consoled  him  with  the  assurance 
that  "  when  papa  recovered  she  would  play  with  him, 
if  he  would  only  be  quiet  and  good  now  ;  mamma  would 
soon  return."  As  she  uttered  the  last  words,  her  cheek 
flushed  angrily. 

Nora  had  anticipated  what  had  eventually  occurred, 
for  she  could  not  but  observe  the  growing  intimacy, 
inspired  by  frivolity  on  the  one  side  and  greed  and  re- 
venge on  the  other. 

Landolfo's  deep-laid  plans  to  become  Karsten's  son- 
in-law  and  partner  being  defeated  by  Nora's  steady 
opposition,  changed  into  hatred  for  the  director,  whom 
he  always  suspected  of  encouraging  his  daughter's  feel- 
ings. By  threatening  to  retire  from  the  circus,  Nora 
had  induced  her  father  to  forbid  any  more  of  Landolfo's 
proposals.     The   latter  began   to   pay  attention   to  Ma- 


270  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

dame  Karsten,  with  the  hope  of  exciting  the  jealousy 
of  her  step-daughter  ;  and  the  vain  woman,  who  began 
to  find  domestic  life  monotonous,  was  very  much  flat- 
tered by  the  attentions  of  the  acknowledged  Adonis. 
She  had  gradually  become  weary  of  her  husband  in  his 
advancing  years.  Landolfo  was  quick  to  recognize  the 
possibility  of  making  her  a  tool  to  further  his  own  de- 
signs, and,  as  an  additional  means,  he  did  all  in  his 
power  to  encourage  Karsten's  love  of  drink.  His  plans 
were  somewhat  hastened  by  Curt's  visit,  for  he  feared 
that  the  former  engagement  might  be  renewed,  so 
he  determined  to  bring  about  a  result  which  would 
ruin  Nora's  prospects,  and  for  which  he  felt  sure  the 
director's  pride  would  prevent  him  seeking  public  re- 
dress. By  threats  and  flattery  he  easily  overcame  the 
weak  woman's  love  for  her  child,  and  having  taken 
funds  from  the  business  treasury,  the  pair  disappeared. 

His  thirst  for  revenge  on  Nora  inspired  the  scandal- 
ous newspaper  articles,  into  which  he  deftly  interwove 
truths  and  untruths  in  such  a  way  as  to  injure  her  repu- 
tation and  Curt's. 

Nora  had  had  an  angry  scene  that  day  with  her  father, 
who  had  been  informed  by  Landolfo  of  Curt's  visit.  This 
had  so  excited  her  that  she  was  totally  unfit  to  appear  that 
evening  ;  and  this  was  made  the  foundation  for  the  report 
of  her  elopement.  Nora  had  retired  to  her  room,  and  her 
thoughts  were  busy  with  the  occurrences  of  the  last  few 
days,  when  she  heard  a  heavy  fall  in  the  next  apart- 
ment. Hurrying  thither,  she  found  her  father  lying 
unconscious  on  the  floor,  with   a  letter  crushed  between 


THK    CIRCUS-RIDERS    DAUGHTER.  271 

his  fingers.  Karsten  was  going  to  escort  his  wife  to  the 
evening  performance,  when  the  porter  informed  him 
that  one  of  the  ladies  had  just  left  with  Signor  Lan- 
dolfo.  In  amazement  he  proceeded  to  his  wife's  room, 
and  there  found  his  little  son  asleep  and  all  the  drawers 
and  trunks  lying  open.  A  letter  lay  on  the  table  in- 
forming him  that  "  her  heart  could  no  longer  bear  in- 
difference, and  therefore  she  had  fled  to  the  arms  of 
love.  The  domestic  fetters  stung  her,  and  she  had  gone 
where  her  artistic  talent  would  be  recognized." 

It  required  some  time  for  the  director  to  take  in  the 
situation,  but  once  understood,  his  whole  nervous  sys- 
tem gave  way,  and  he  fell  a  prey  to  a  second  stroke  of 
apoplexy. 

As  soon  as  she  entered  the  room  Nora  understood  all, 
and  her  first  thought  was  to  destroy  all  proofs  of  the 
humiliation  and  dishonor  her  poor  father  had  suffered 
before  calling  for  help.  She  hoped  that  he  would 
speedily  recover  consciousness,  but  the  doctor's  manner 
soon  convinced  her  that  the  worst  was  to  be  feared. 

The  following  days  she  was  entirely  occupied  with 
nursing  her  father,  but  soon  other  cares  obtruded  them- 
selves. The  illness  of  the  director  and  the  disappear- 
ance of  the  manager,  together  with  the  increasing  mail 
matter,  the  wants  of  the  business  and  the  claims  of  the 
members  of  the  troupe  threatened  a  most  serious  com- 
plication. In  order  to  prevent  or  at  least  to  forestall  any 
want  of  confidence  among  the  troupe,  Nora  had  the 
presence  of  mind  to  keep  her  father's  unconsciousness  a 
secret,  and  to  put  the  direction  of  affairs  in  the  hands 


272  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

of  one  who  had  grown  gray  in  the  business,  making  it 
appear  that  he  was  acting  under  the  direction  of  Karsten. 

At  first  this  arrangement  seemed  to  promise  well  ;  but 
as  the  defalcations  of  Landolfo  came  to  light,  and  the 
want  of  funds  made  it  impossible  to  pay  the  back  wages 
due,  the  old  man  realized  that  it  required  more  business 
talent  than  he  possessed.  Notwithstanding  Nora's 
brave  spirit,  she  began  to  despair.  In  vain  she  looked 
around  her  for  advice  or  assistance,  and  she  shrank 
from  taking  any  decisive  step,  fearing  the  result. 

How  often  that  promise  of  "  a  few  days"  occurred 
to  her  !  But  how  slow  they  were  in  coming  !  She  im- 
pressed it  on  her  maid  that  she  must  be  very  particular 
to  tell  her  of  any  visits  ;  and  on  inquiry  of  any  that 
were  made,  how  disappointing  to  find  only  names  that 
were  indifferent  to  her  ! 

In  her  desire  for  advice  she  thought  of  the  chaplain, 
but  a  certain  feeling  of  pride  prevented  her  from  apply- 
ing to  him.  She  wished  to  avoid  the  slightest  appear- 
ance of  approaching  the  Degenthal  family.  One  day 
her  heart  bounded  with  joy  on  being  told  that  a  gentle- 
man had  called,  but  keen  was  her  disappointment  on 
reading  on  the  card  "  Baron  Dahnow, "  and  she  was 
about  to  decline  seeing  him,  when  her  eye  fell  on  the 
pencilled  words,  "  Should  Miss  Nora  Karsten  be  in  need 
of  any  service,  will  she  call  on  an  old  friend  ?" 

Notwithstanding  the  first  disappointment,  these  words 
were  welcome,  for  she  was  indeed  in  want  of  advice 
and  assistance.  A  certain  feeling  of  repose  came  to  her 
as  she  saw  that  sturdy  figure,   whose  broad  shoulders 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  273 

seemed  capable  of  bearing  any  burden,  and  whose  clear 
eyes  seemed  ready  to  penetrate  any  mystery.  Occupied 
as  she  was  with  her  own  thoughts,  she  did  not  remark 
the  peculiar  expression  of  his  countenance  as  she  ad- 
vanced to  meet  him.  He  bowed  low  over  her  hand, 
which  he  raised  to  his  lips.  The  mark  of  respect  was 
pleasing  to  her  wounded  feelings,  and  she  said,  "  How 
can  I  thank  you,  Baron  Dahnow  ?  How  did  you  know 
that  I  was  in  need  of  a  friend  ?" 

Dahnow's  explanation  sounded  very  simple  :  that, 
being  in  Vienna,  he  had  heard  of  her  father's  illness 
and  hastened  to  make  inquiries,  as  became  an  old  friend. 

It  would  have  been  a  little  difficult  to  have  told  her 
the  exact  truth.  Just  as  he  was  wondering  what  had 
caused  the  breach  between  Nora  and  Curt,  and  what 
had  become  of  her,  he  was  attracted  by  the  articles  in 
the  papers  concerning  her.  He  was  quite  unprepared 
for  the  sad  occurrences  enlarged  upon,  as  he  had  never 
heard  of  her  having  appeared  in  public.  He  was  com- 
pletely at  a  loss  to  comprehend  the  whole  thing,  but 
notwithstanding  this  difficulty,  he  had  never  for  a  mo- 
ment doubted  Nora's  complete  innocence,  or  that  it  was 
the  pressure  of  circumstances  alone  which  had  forced 
her  to  adopt  the  career. 

The  report  of  Nora's  elopement  he  stigmatized  as  an 
"  infamous  lie,"  and  his  next  impulse  was  to  decide  to 
go  to  Vienna  and  learn  the  truth.  With  his  character- 
istic perseverance  he  overcame  all  obstacles,  found  Nora 
herself,  and  had  the  comfort  of  feeling  justified  in  his 
confidence  in  her. 


274  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTEK. 

As  he  sat  with  her,  he  induced  her  to  tell  him  her  pres- 
ent troubles.  His  clear  mind  took  in  everything,  and 
he  promised  her  all  the  assistance  in  his  power  ;  but 
Nora  shrinkingly  begged  him  "  to  avoid  notoriety,  not 
to  let  her  be  spoken  of." 

Perhaps  it  was  the  illy-concealed  sorrow  on  Dahnow's 
countenance  that  made  her  conscious  of  how  public  her 
unfortunate  condition  had  become.  There  is  a  good 
deal  of  the  ostrich  instinct  in  us  all,  which  makes  us  feel 
safety  in  hiding  our  heads. 

A  new  light  seemed  to  break  upon  her,  which  made 
her  ask  in  a  quick,  frightened  tone,  "  Has  this  been 
dragged  before  the  public  .''" 

Dahnow  tried  to  evade  by  attributing  the  publicity 
to  her  father's  reputation  and  to  her  personal  charms. 
Her  eyes  grew  larger  and  larger,  as  she  said,  "  But  how 
could  they  blame  my  father?" 

"  They  made  a  mistake  in  the  names,"  said  Dahnow, 
with  embarrassment.  "  The  little  boy  being  left  behind 
made  people  unwilling  to  believe  that  the  mother — " 

"  Made  a  mistake  !"  repeated  Nora.  "  No,  oh  no  !" 
she  continued,  her  face  becoming  a  deep  red.  "  It  is 
impossible  that  any  one  believed  that  I — " 

"  Newspapers  are  so  inaccurate,"  suggested  Dahnow. 

"  But  that  must  be  corrected — that  must  be  correct- 
ed !"  she  cried,  wringing  her  hands. 

"  It  was  corrected.  I  read  the  correction  in  the  best- 
known  papers,"  said  Dahnow. 

"  Ah,  too  late,  too  late  !"  she  moaned.  "  Willing 
ears  believe  whatever  bad  is  said  about  us."      And  for 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  275 

the  first  time  since  her  great  misfortune,  burning  tears 
coursed  down  her  cheeks. 

"  I  shall  do  all  in  my  power,"  said  Dahnovv,  "  to 
set  things  right,  and  to  see  that  your  name  is  pro- 
tected." 

He -kept  his  word  ;  before  many  days  the  papers  con- 
tained a  clear,  decided  refutal  of  their  former  stories, 
and  dwelt  particularly  on  the  presence  of  Nora  at  her 
father's  sick-bed. 

But  Nora  was  right  ;  the  refutation  was  passed  over 
with  the  hurried,  superficial  glance  with  which  news  of 
little  importance  is  read.  Whether  it  was  the  wife  or 
the  daughter  who  had  eloped  was  a  matter  of  perfect 
indifference  to  the  public ,  the  charm  of  the  gossip  had 
passed.  Those  few  to  whom  the  truth  or  falseness  of 
the  story  was  of  importance  did  not  read  the  refutation. 
The  circle  at  Gohlitz  were  not  interested  in  reading  the 
papers  just  at  that  time.  As  if  by  tacit  consent,  indeed, 
they  were  ignored,  as  if  it  were  feared  that  the  old 
wounds  would  be  renewed  or  some  unpleasant  truth 
unearthed.  Besides,  every  one  was  as  busy  as  a  great 
family  event  alone  can  make  people,  especially  in  this 
case,  greatly  desired  yet  hardly  looked  for. 

Lily's  countenance  was  beaming  with  joy.  The  dar- 
ling wish  of  the  countess  was  fulfilled  just  as  she  had 
begun  to  despair.  Curt's  engagement  to  his  cousin 
was  quickly  known  ;  his  return,  as  sudden  as  his  depar- 
ture, silenced  the  malicious  tongues  that  had  been  made 
busy  by  his  going  away.  True,  meaning  smiles  passed 
over  many   lips,  shoulders  were  shrugged,  innuendoes 


276  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

were  indulged  in,  but  congratulations  came  freely  never- 
theless. 

The  chaplain  was  the  only  one  who  made  any  in- 
quiries and  found  out  the  truth  concerning  Nora,  but 
under  existing  circumstances  it  was  not  practicable  to 
speak  to  Curt  or  his  family  on  the  subject,  and  he  had 
to  wait  for  a  more  favorable  time. 

In  the  mean  time,  Dahnow  gave  his  undivided  atten- 
tion to  Nora's  affairs.  According  to  his  opinion,  the 
best  course  to  pursue  was  to  close  the  business  as  quickly 
as  possible,  and  to  have  guardians  appointed  for  Nora 
and  her  little  brother,  as,  even  under  the  most  favorable 
circumstances,  Karsten's  illness  would  be  of  long  dura- 
tion. He  advised  going  to  Karsten's  native  town  in  the 
North,  as  greatly  simplifying  things. 

Nora's  countenance  brightened  when  arssured  that  the 
continuance  of  the  business  would  only  be  injurious, 
for  she  feared  that  her  brother's  minority  would  require 
its  maintenance.  Now,  however,  she  suddenly  saw  in 
her  hand  the  end  of  what  but  a  short  time  ago  seemed 
an  endless  thread. 

"  How  soon,  how  soon  !"  she  asked,  little  dreaming 
that  the  soonest  would  be  too  late. 

Yet  an  unconquerable  opposition  arose  in  her  heart 
to  leaving  Vienna,  where  she  had  last  seen  ////;/,  where 
he  had  promised  to  "  see  her  soon  again." 

An  unspeakable  restlessness  seized  her.  He  must 
come,  he  would  come  ;  he  had  come  back  of  his  own 
accord.  Why  should  he  have  asked  an  explanation,  if 
he  were  not  influenced  by  the  old  love  ?     Had  not  that 


THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER.  277 

love  sounded  in  each  of  his  words  ?  She  dwelt  on  the 
moment  she  had  rested  in  his  arms  and  felt  his  kiss  on 
her  brow.  He  surely  would  come  !  She  resolved  to 
require  nothing  more  of  him.  She  would  not  try  to  tie 
him  to  her,  but  she  wanted  to  explain  all  that  had  hap- 
pened to  her.  She  determined  to  take  out  the  explana- 
tory letter  which  she  had  written  and  show  it  to  him, 
that  he  might  the  better  understand  how  she  had  been 
circumstanced. 

The,  letter  lay  waiting  many  days,  but  Curt  did  not 
come.  Fears  mingled  with  Nora's  longing.  Had  her 
words  offended  him  ?  Had  he  heard  those  dreadful  re- 
ports ?  No,  no.  They  would  not  have  a  word  of  truth 
for  him  !  Had  sickness  seized  him,  as  had  been  the  case 
on  a  former  occasion  ?  The  suspense  grew  harder  every 
day  to  bear,  .and  although  weeks  passed,  and  Dahnow 
called  almost  every  day,  she  could  not  bring  herself  to 
question  him.  At  length  her  heart's  restlessness  tri- 
umphed one  evening  when  the  dusk  threw  both  coun- 
tenances in  the  shade. 

Dahnow  had  come  to  report  what  he  had  been  doing, 
and  to  urge  their  leaving.  She  asked  him  if  he  had 
heard  lately  from  his  friend  Degenthal.  The  words 
were  simple,  but  each  one  trembled  with  emotion. 

Dahnow  turned  pale.  For  weeks  he  had  been  dread- 
ing this  question,  for  he  concluded  that  all  the  reports 
and  Curt's  excitement  had  much  to  do  in  fashioning  his 
course,  and  now  he  dreaded  what  he  had  to  relate.  He 
was  glad  of  the  twilight,  which  concealed  his  nervous- 
ness and  helped  him  to  say,  with  apparent  indifference, 


278  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

that  Degenthal  was  well  ;  he  had  seen  him  after  his  last 
sickness,  and  found  him  much  improved.  They  hoped 
that  a  stay  in  the  South  of  France  would  effect  his  com- 
plete recovery.  He  was  going  there  with  his  young 
wife.  His  marriage  to  his  cousin  was  to  come  off  in  a 
few  days. 

The  truth  was  out  !  The  good-hearted  Mecklen- 
burger  wiped  the  cold  perspiration  from  his  forehead 
and  kept  his  eyes  fastened  on  the  floor,  so  that  he  might 
not  see  the  effect  of  his  words.  No  sound  came — no 
sound,  no  sigh.  There  was  a  long  pause,  one  of 
those  pauses  when  you  can  almost  count  the  pulsations. 

After  a  while  Nora  said,  as  she  arose,  "  I  would  not 
have  thought  it." 

When  the  heart  is  heaviest  it  seizes  on  the  simplest 
words  ;  but  there  was  a  depth  of  disappointment  in  the 
sentence.  Her  cheeks  were  pale,  and  there  was  a  wild 
light  in  her  eyes  as  she  said,  "  I  believe  I  must  go  to 
my  father." 

She  turned  to  leave  the  room,  but  her  step  faltered, 
and  she  seized  the  table  for  support. 

Dahnow  hastened  to  her,  but  she  merely  said,  "  It 
is  nothing.  So  much  watching  has  weakened  me  a 
little  ;"  and  as  she  raised  her  head  with  determination, 
the  likeness  to  her  father  was  most  marked. 

Dahnow  looked  after  her  entreatingly.  "The  deep 
sympathy  which  was  so  apparent  in  his  eyes  moved  her. 
Her  lips  trembled  like  those  of  a  weeping  child,  as  she 
said  piteously,  "  Baron  Dahnow,  did  those  reports 
sound  so  true  ?" 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S   DAUGHTER.  279 

He  replied,  "  Circumstances  concurred  to  give  them 
the  semblance  of  truth." 

"  But  you — how  did  you  know  that  they  were  not 
true  ?" 

"  Because  I  knew  you  I  did  not  believe  them,"  said 
the  noble  Mecklenburger  in  the  simplest  manner  ;  but 
his  voice  trembled,  and  he  seized  his  hat  and  left  the 
room. 

Nora  hardly  remarked  that  he  had  gone.  "  Because 
I  knew  you  I  did  not  believe  it,"  she  repeated  ;  "  and 
he — oh,  he  believed  it  !"  she  cried,  as  the  tears  trickled 
through  the  hands  with  which  she  had  covered  her  face. 

With  the  proverbial  ingratitude  of  love,  she  was  un- 
conscious of  him  who  had  shown  such  implicit  confi- 
dence, thinking  only  of  the  one  who  had  wounded  her. 
"  He  believed  it  all  !     I  wish  I  were  dead." 

Baron  Dahnow  wandered  about  aimlessly  that  even- 
ing, apparently  indifferent  to  the  thick  autumn  fog. 

"She  loves  him  still,"  he  kept  repeating  to  himself. 
*'  She  loves  him  to-day,  and  were  he  to  desert  her  ten 
times  she  would  still  be  true.  I  always  said  he  would 
bring  her  grief.  She  wasted  her  love  upon  this  man, 
who  does  not  know  what  love  is." 

Cold  and  weary,  he  sought  his  comfortable  chambers, 
but  could  find  no  rest  there  The  pale,  sad  face  was 
ever  before  his  ej'^es,  and  the  words,  "  But  you — how 
did  you  know  that  it  was  not  true  ?"   echoed  in  his  ears. 

He  sought  distraction  in  what  some  call  "  the  bad 
habit  of  reading,"  but  to-day  his  store  of  books  had  no 
remedy  for  him.     His  lamp  burned  low  while  he  was 


28o  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

Still  impatiently  turning  the  leaves  of  his  favorite  poets. 
He  took  up  a  volume  of  Goethe,  for  Dahnow,  even  in 
travelling,  always  had  with  him  whatever  could  in  any 
way  contribute  to  his  bodily  or  mental  comfort. 

He  opened  at  the  passage  where  the  immortal  Goethe 
makes  the  uncouth  Seckingen  say,  with  more  cynicism 
than  poetry,  of  the  gentle  Marie,  "  The  slighted  maiden 
is  ripe  for  a  proposal." 

Could  it  be  possible  that  this  was  the  opportunity  for 
which  Dahnow  had  been  waiting  ?  He  threw  the  book 
aside,  extinguished  the  light,  and  closed  his  eyes  ;  but 
they  must  have  been  sweet  dreams  that  visited  him,  for 
even  in  sleep  a  happy  smile  rested  around  his  lips. 


THE   circus-rider's    DAUGHTER.  281 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

NORA  felt  this  last  blow  even  more  keenly  than  her 
first  great  sacrifice.  From  voluntary  renunciation 
to  being  forgotten  and  supplanted  was  a  long,  wide 
step,  which  she  had  not  foreseen.  It  was  a  deeper 
humiliation  than  the  cold  contempt  he  had  once  shown 
her.  Even  in  the  latter  there  was  a  spark  of  love  of 
which  she  never  lost  sight  ;  but  now  the  last  star  which 
lighted  the  heaven  of  her  affection  had  disappeared. 
She  did  not  experience  the  wild  agony  which  then  rent 
her  soul,  but  she  was  depressed  by  the  despairing  weari- 
ness which  mocks  the  void  of  dead  hope.  I^ove  and 
happiness  are  such  essential  parts  of  youth,  that  when 
they  are  taken  away  each  breath  of  life  seems  un- 
bearable. 

But  passion  does  not  die  with  hope.  Not  in  vain  was 
Nora's  power  of  loving  awakened.  The  restoration  of 
her  lover  had  developed  the  dreamy  sentiment  of  the 
girl  into  the  deep  devotion  of  the  woman,  which  cannot 
be  annihilated  with  a  blow,  but  lingers  like  the  dying 
ember  and  leaves  the  heart  either  dross  or  diamond. 

Nora  was  obliged  to  hasten  to  the  sick-bed  of  her 
father,  who  lay  there  a  magnificent  ruin,  unable  to  move 
a  limb  or  form  a  sentence.  It  was  no  help  to  her  that 
he  only  required  constant  watching  instead  of  active  at- 
tention, for  outward  calm  sits  hard  on  the  troubled  mind. 


262  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

In  one  of  those  hours  of  restlessness  she  wrote  as  fol- 
lows to  her  old  friend  in  the  cloister  : 

"  I  envy  you  your  interior  peace  as  I  envy  others  their 
happiness.  Why  am  I  deprived  of  both  ?  What  have 
I  done  that  my  love  should  turn  to  bitterness,  and  all 
my  sacrifice  be  valueless  ?  Would  that  I  could  bury  my 
heart  with  you,  that  your  peace  might  annihilate  all 
feeling." 

The  good  nun  replied  : 

"  Child,  this  is  no  burial-ground.  Did  you  not  desire 
love  ?  To-day  as  then  I  do  not  blame  your  choice. 
Renunciation  of  the  world,  however,  requires  a  strong 
and  brave  heart.  Once  you  would  not  choose  us  ;  now 
I  could  not  choose  you  were  you  inclined  to  come.  Oh, 
woe  to  us,  rash  children  of  men,  woe  to  us  when  the 
Lord  grants  us  our  desire  ! 

"Did  you  not  choose  the  struggle?  Did  you  not 
crave  love  ?  To-day  as  then  I  do  not  blame  you.  It  is 
man's  right  to  struggle  for  life's  joys  and  sorrows,  and 
what  the  heart  most  desires  is  worth  the  strife.  You 
knew  the  cost,  and  yet  you  welcomed  love.  Why  do 
you  complain  ?  Has  the  Lord  been  ungenerous  ?  He 
granted  you  life's  changing  fortune  ;  He  gave  you  love 
in  richest  measure.  Have  you  forgotten  all  the  bright 
hours  ?  Even  to-day,  in  the  depth  of  your  agony,  I  ask 
you,  would  you  tear  from  life's  book  the  feelings  of  the 
past  ? 

"  Child,  worse  shipwreck  might  have  been  your  fate. 
Thank  God  that  He  did  not  allow  you  to  lose  your  soul. 


THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER.  283 

If  your  love  was  granted  you  as  a  saving  medium,  I  con- 
gratulate you,  and  I  believe  that  the  day  will  come  when 
you  will  bless  the  sacrifice  it  has  cost.  Look  on  your 
trial  as  a  gift  from  God  to  you  and  to  him.  Why  will 
you  rebel  against  the  God  who  has  given  you  such 
proofs  of  protection,  instead  of  putting  yourself  in  His 
hands  and  trusting  to  His  providence  ?  If  it  seems 
to  you  that  all  your  happiness  is  gone,  remember  that 
love  is  but  one  factor  in  earthly  happiness.  From  a 
pure  intention  and  brave  resolve  new  blessedness  may 
come.  The  heart's  passion  holds  too  small  a  place  in 
the  designs  of  God  to  allow  it  to  limit  life's  object." 

The  wise  religious  who  thus  wrote  must  have  pos- 
sessed a  clear  insight  into  the  female  heart,  so  cleverly 
to  mingle  heavenly  and  worldly  consolation. 

Nora  often  asked  herself  if  she  would  consent  to  let 
her  present  grief  obliterate  the  remembrance  of  the  joy 
that  had  been  hers,  and  ever  came  back  the  answer, 
"  No,  no,"  as  the  blissful  hours  recurred  to  her  memory. 
Again  and  again  recurred  the  words,  "  It  was  a  gift  of 
God  to  you  and  to  him.'"''  It  seemed  to  take  the  sting 
out  of  the  wound,  and  from  her  earthly  grief  she  turned 
her  thoughts  to  the  providence  of  Heaven. 

Winter  had  passed.  Nora  no  longer  opposed  remov- 
ing to  the  north,  but  the  director's  strength  was  not 
sufficiently  re-established.  Dahnow  had  gone  there  to 
make  all  necessary  preparations,  and  to  place  the  clos- 
ing up  of  the  business  in  proper  hands.  It  was  neces- 
sary for  him  to  write  almost  every  day  to  Nora,  and 
these    letters,    so   business-like    and    yet   containing   so 


284  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

much,  became  a  welcome  interruption  to  her  monot- 
onous life. 

It  was  spring  before  the  final  move  took  place.  Dah- 
now  had  engaged  a  pretty  residence  outside  the  town, 
where  the  director  could  have  good  air  and  quiet,  the 
most  necessary  things  for  him  in  his  present  state.  The 
practical  thoughtfulness  of  the  young  man  had  antici- 
pated everything  that  could  make  it  home-like.  Violets 
perfumed  all  the  rooms,  and  bloomed  in  the  little  garden. 

A  bright  sun  lent  its  rays  to  brighten  the  hopes  for  the 
future,  and  Dahnow  could  not  help  thinking  of  that 
April  day  when  he  first  saw  Nora  in  all  her  dazzling 
beauty.  Like  April  weather,  her  life  had  been  change- 
able ;  happiness,  warm  and  intense,  had  lighted  it,  and 
sorrow  had  clouded  it.  What  would  this  new  change 
bring  her  ? 

Nora's  eye  brightened  as  she  came  in  sight  of  the  new 
home — home,  home,  entirely  her  own,  where  for  the 
first  time  she  would  be  free  from  the  hateful  surround- 
ings of  her  father's  business. 

The  past  winter  had  been  like  a  long,  dark  night  to 
her,  and  she  hailed  the  dawn  of  life  and  activity  as  one 
welcomes  the  gray  morning  light,  not  knowing  what 
will  be  the  day  it  ushers  in. 

The  business  had  been  wound  up  rather  successfully. 
Notwithstanding  the  heavy  losses  of  the  last  years, 
enough  remained  to  secure  to  the  director  and  his  chil- 
dren an  easy  competence. 

Karsten  did  not  appear  to  realize  the  changes.  Al- 
though  much   recovered,   his  old   powers  of  mind   and 


THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER.  285 

body  were  far  from  being  wholly  restored.  He  loved 
to  sit  for  hours  perfectly  quiet,  or  to  busy  himself  in 
the  little  garden.  Of  the  past  he  seemed  to  retain  but 
slight  recollection.  Nora  had  feared  the  effect  of  his 
hearing  of  the  close  of  his  business,  but  when  she  told 
him  of  it  he  merely  said,  "  Helena  always  wished  it." 
There  were  days  when  he  addressed  Nora  by  her  mother's 
name.  He  never  mentioned  his  second  wife,  and  was  but 
little  interested  in  his  son.  On  one  occasion,  as  the  little 
boy,  with  child-like  pleasure,  thinking  of  his  pony,  men- 
tioned the  name  of  Landolfo,  his  father  became  so  ex- 
cited that  it  was  hours  before  Nora  was  able  to  quiet 
him.  She  knelt  beside  him,  and  taking  her  father's 
clinched  hands  in  hers,  soothed  him  with  trembling 
lips,  until  his  angry  eyes  were  finally  closed  in  ex- 
haustion. 

The  mission  she  had  once  proposed  to  herself  of  awak- 
ening her  father  from  his  religious  indifference  had  been 
lost  sight  of  in  her  own  troubles.  Blessed  is  the  moment 
when  the  sense  of  duty  to  another  gives  us  the  means 
of  overcoming  our  own  grief  ! 

Another  help  came  hand  in  hand  with  this  awakened 
sentiment.  Life  cannot  be  altogether  dark  when  an- 
other devotes  all  his  efforts  to  make  us  happy.  Baron 
Dahnow  seemed  but  to  live  for  Nora,  and  his  care 
showed  itself  in  the  smallest  things.  To  her  great  as- 
tonishment, she  found  that  her  riding-horse  had  been 
reserved,  and  on  her  suggesting  that  she  considerefl  it 
too  expensive  a  luxury,  he  insisted  that  it  was  necessary 
for  her  health. 


286  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

His  watchful  care  was  repaid  by  seeing  the  exhaustion, 
which  was  the  natural  result  of  so  much  trouble  and 
anxiety,  disappear,  and  noting  the  gentle  exercise  and 
fresh  air  bringing  back  the  color  to  Nora's  cheeks  and 
the  old  expression  to  her  eyes.  Could  he  be  blamed  if 
all  this  new  life  revived  new  hopes  in  his  heart  ?  Would 
it  not  be  possible  that  a  new  love  might  come  ? 

Whatever  may  have  been  his  thoughts,  he  never  dis- 
turbed Nora's  feeling  of  perfect  confidence  by  exposing 
them.  He  possessed  the  rare  gift  of  easily  falling  into 
the  same  vein  as  his  companions,  and  now  his  quiet 
sympathy  did  for  her  what  his  former  letters  had  done. 
Although  yet  too  worn  out  to  notice  each  little  atten- 
tion, she  was  grateful  for  his  unwearying  care,  and  day 
by  day  she  grew  more  interested  in  his  conversation. 
Although  Dahnow  may  have  lacked  familiarity  with 
many  subjects  with  which  she  was  conversant,  he  talked 
like  an  intelligent  and  well-read  man,  and  his  knowl- 
edge of  her  mother's  country  awakened  her  liveliest 
Interest. 

Notwithstanding  she  constantly  showed  how  welcome 
he  was  to  her,  and  he  often  thought  of  the  words  of  the 
rough  Sickingen,  spring  had  blossomed  into  summer 
and  summer  had  ripened  into  autumn  before  he  had 
the  courage  to  test  the  truth  of  the  knight's  words. 
Did  Nora's  eyes  greet  him  with  too  little  constraint,  did 
she  extend  her  hand  too  readily  ? 

Was  she  really  so  wrapped  up  in  herself  as  not  to  be 
conscious  of  the  feelings  which  filled  Dahnow's  heart  ? 
Be  that  as  it  may,  she  was  shocked  when  one  day  the 


THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER.  287 

words  were  spoken  with  which  a  man  offers  woman  what 
he  holds  most  sacred,  and  he  stood  before  her  telling 
of  feelings  which  had  lain  hidden  for  years. 

It  was  only  the  surprise  she  felt  which  shone  from 
her  eyes. 

"  Think  of  all  that  the  world  expects  from  your  sci- 
entific researches,"  she  said. 

Dahnow  merely  smiled. 

"  Think  of  the  difference  of  our  religions." 

He  reasoned  away  the  objections. 

She  dwelt  on  the  duty  she  owed  her  father  and  her 
little  brother  ;  she  spoke  of  the  place  he  could  make 
for  himself  in  the  world  ;  she  pledged  him  her  everlast- 
ing friendship.  He  saw  in  her  eyes  the  fear  that  she 
was  about  to  lose  her  last  friend,  but  alas  !  he  did  not 
see  what  he  looked  for.  Had  he  spoken  too  soon  ? 
Had  he  left  enough  time  for  the  wounds  of  old  recol- 
lections to  heal  ?  Well,  he  was  a  patient  man.  He 
could  wait  until  she  had  become  accustomed  to  think 
of  another  love. 

"  Let  it  be  as  though  no  word  had  been  uttered,"  he 
said. 

Nora  placed  her  hand  in  his  so  trustfully,  he  felt  how 
easily  she  could  forget.  He  resumed  his  accustomed 
place  in  the  little  household.  During  the  long  winter 
evenings  he  entertained  the  director,  whose  recollec- 
tions he  seemed  to  understand  how  to  awaken.  He 
held  the  little  boy  upon  his  knees  and  told  him  funny 
stories,  adding  to  them  when  he  perceived  that  Nora 
joined  her  brother's  merry  laugh.     To  Nora  herself  he 


288  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

brought  books  and  pictures  and  everything  which  he 
thought  would  interest  her,  and  she  seemed  to  enjoy  it 
all  and  gradually  come  out  of  her  melancholy.  One 
might  think  that  when  the  heart  gives  up  a  ruling  pas- 
sion the  mind  becomes  the  gainer  and  grows  more 
active.  It  is  only  in  poor  soil  that  roots  cannot  sprout 
again  ;  the  richer  the  mind,  the  more  easily  does  it  re- 
cover. 

Though  youth  is  sweet  and  attractive,  still  more  sat- 
isfying is  the  charm  of  developed  womanhood,  ready  to 
follow  man's  deeper  thoughts.  Dahnow  felt  this  truth 
as  he  sat  opposite  Nora,  who  never  seemed  so  love- 
ly as  now,  when  the  first  deep  sorrow  began  to  dis- 
appear and  was  replaced  by  the  quiet  which  follows  the 
storm. 

The  day  came,  however,  when,  notwithstanding  this 
charm,  or  perhaps  on  account  of  it,  he  became  restless, 
and  without  other  explanation  than  "  I  cannot  come 
again,"  stood  up  to  leave. 

Nora  sprang  forward  as  though  to  retain  the  true 
friend,  but  suddenly  she  stood  still,  her  hand  pressed 
to  her  heart  to  still  its  beatings.  She  resumed  her  seat 
quietly,  feeling  that  she  had  no  right  to  burden  him 
with  her  fate — him  to  whom  she  had  nothing  to  offer, 
him  to  whom  her  heart  could  not  turn. 

Was  she  so  perfectly  satisfied  with  her  present  life  ? 
Ah  !  she  felt  how  she  would  miss  him,  now  her  only 
remaining  friend. 

Dahnow' s  relatives  found  him  so  changed  in  appear- 
ance that  they  recommended  him  to  try  a  milder  climate. 


THE     CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  2S9 

One  suggested  that  he  might  better  get  him  a  pretty 
wife  to  counteract  the  climatic  effects  ;  and  a  sister, 
who  had  a  large  family  and  looked  prudently  toward 
the  heirship  to  their  uncle's  fortune,  said  that  "  it  was 
not  intended  for  every  one  to  marry,  and  that  it  was 
very  evident  that  Clement  was  not  so  inclined.  He 
should  be  allowed  to  do  just  as  he  pleased." 

Dahnow  did  not  go  beyond  the  sea  ;  it  seemed  as  if  his 
unreturned  love  possessed  a  magnetic  influence,  which 
held  him  always  within  a  certain  distance  of  its  object. 

His  leaving,  however,  made  a  great  void  in  Karsten's 
home,  where  he  had  been  the  life  of  the  little  circle  ; 
his  absence  made  it  necessary  for  Nora  to  still  more  for- 
get herself  to  supply  his  place  to  her  father  and  brother. 
This  has  always  a  reacting  power  ;  the  cheerful  word 
uttered  for  others  echoes  in  our  own  heart,  and  the 
bright  smile  sends  back  a  reflecting  beam. 

Day  followed  day,  and  Nora  could  not  conceal  from 
herself  that  her  father  was  losing  strength  ;  but  as  his 
physical  health  declined  his  mental  powers  reasserted 
themselves.  His  thoughts  dwelt  on  higher  things.  One 
day  he  expressed  a  desire  to  see  a  clergyman,  and  as 
Nora,  in  her  joy,  stooped  to  kiss  him,  he  smiled,  and 
placing  a  hand  on  her  head,  said,  "  Yes  ;  had  I  followed 
the  advice  of  Helena  in  worldly  and  unworldly  things, 
I  would  have  been  a  very  different  man.  Child,  man 
can  form  his  own  fate,  but  he  becomes  the  victim  of  its 
influence  ;  it  transforms  him.  The  hardest  has  been 
for  you,  my  daughter.  No,"  he  continued,  as  she 
placed  her  hand   over  his  mouth,   "let  me  speak.     It 


290  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

has  all  troubled  my  head  and  lain  heavy  on  my  heart, 
although  I  have  not  spoken.  I  have  destroyed  your 
life's  happiness  ;  things  would  have  been  different  had 
it  not  been  for  my  obstinate  selfishness.  Have  I  dreamed 
it,  or  is  it  true  that  he  returned  to  you  ?" 

"  Yes,  yes,  he  returned,"  whispered  Nora,  and  her 
eyes  beamed  with  happiness. 

"  Why  did  he  not  remain  ?"  asked  the  old  man,  his 
brow  contracting. 

"  Misunderstandings,  misunderstandings,  father  ;  it 
is  better  as  it  is." 

He  gazed  on  his  daughter,  so  beautiful,  so  innocent,  so 
pure!  Of  what  place  was  she  not  worthy?  he  asked  him- 
self. 

"  Why  cannot  the  misunderstanding  be  explained  ? 
You  are  in  the  flower  of  life.  It  is  never  too  late  for 
happiness.     What  has  become  of  him  ?    Where  is  he  ?" 

"  He  is  a  long  time  married,  father,"  whispered  Nora, 
and  in  spite  of  her  strong  will  a  deep  red  mounted  to 
cheeks  and  brow.  "  I  told  you,  father  dear,  that  it 
could  not  be  otherwise,"  she  continued  hastily,  as  if  to 
remove  the  shadow  of  blame  from  her  lover. 

"  My  poor  child  !"'  her  father  moaned,  as  he  drew  her 
head  down  to  his  shoulder.  Suddenly  he  pushed  her 
from  him,  and  said,  "  The  other — where  is  the  other? 
You  know,  Nora,  the  one  who  came  so  often  last  winter. 
I  could  not  think  then  ;  my  brain  ached.  I  remember 
he  came  every  day  ;  it  could  not  have  been  for  me,  poor, 
sick  old  man,  kind  as  he  ever  was  to  me.  Nora,  did 
you  send  him  away  ?" 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  29I 

"  Papa,  let  me  stay  with  you  ;  with  you  alone  have  I 
any  comfort,"  interceded  Nora. 

The  old  man  shook  his  head  and  said,  "  I  shall  not 
be  long  here  with  you.  He  was  a  good  man,  a  true 
hand,  a  brave  heart.  It  would  be  a  great  comfort  to 
me  not  to  leave  you  alone." 

"  God's  will  be  done,"  replied  Nora,  "  Father,  even 
with  him  there  was  much  to  be  considered." 

"  Yes,  yes  ;  you  are  always  the  circus-rider's  daugh- 
ter, who  can  settle  nowhere,  that  suits  no  one,"  he  cried 
out  bitterly. 

"  Father,"  she  replied,  "  there  is  a  sphere  where  we 
are  not  asked  what  we  were,  but  what  we  are  doing  for 
a  noble  end.     Perhaps  God  is  leading  me  there." 

"  I  do  not  understand,"  Karsten  answered,  "  but  do 
as  you  wish.  My  advice  has  already  done  you  sufficient 
harm.  But  before  I  am  called  away  send  for  the  clergy- 
man— you  know  whom  I  mean — he  who  stood  at  the 
death-bed  of  my  wife.  He  may  also  help  me.  The 
last  time  I  saw  him  I  did  not  treat  him  well.  He  ap- 
peared like  a  spirit  between  you  and  me,  reminding  me 
of  my  dead  wife's  wishes,  and  I  could  not  bear  it.  It 
was  hard  with  us  then,  but  I  think  he  will  forgive  me. 
I  must  also  have  his  advice  with  regard  to  the  boy,  that 
he  may  not  fall  into  the  hands  of  those  people — not  into 
their  claws,"  he  repeated,  as  he  gnashed  his  teeth, 
"  But  I  wish  to  die  in  peace  with  them,  too.  Nora, 
when  I  am  no  more,  can  you  write  my  forgiveness  to 
his  mother.  She  was  least  to  blame.  Helena  was  right 
— in   the  midst  of  frivolity,  what  is  to  save  us  ?     That 


292  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

you  were  saved  was  not  owing  to  me.  As  for  him," 
Karsten  continued,  "  I  forgive  his  rascality.  He  once 
saved  me  from  drowning,  and  who  knows  but  the  failure 
he  brought  about  has  saved  me  from  worse.  Nora,  the 
blow  gave  me  you.  Oh,  what  would  have  become  of 
me  had  you  not  stood  by  me  !  You  were  right  in  say- 
ing it  was  for  the  best,  in  speaking  of  him  who  would 
have  placed  you  in  so  different  a  sphere  ;  it  would  have 
separated  us.  Now  there  is  no  such  chasm  between  us  ; 
you  are  my  prop,  my  consolation,  my  salvation.  Child, 
your  mother  left  you  to  me." 

"  Yes,  it  is  well,"  replied  Nora  in  a  low  voice,  al- 
though her  rebellious  recollections  protested.  She 
pressed  her  face  close  to  her  father,  threw  her  arms 
around  him,  and  a  sweet  peace  stole  over  her  heart. 
Now  she  understood  the  reason  for  her  sacrifice  and  saw 
its  rich  fruit. 

The  feelings  of  father  and  daughter  were  sacred  at 
this  moment.  Helena's  influence  seemed  to  be  over 
him.  In  that  hour  the  lifelong  wanderer  found  peace, 
and  felt  the  reward  of  the  sacrifice  he  had  made  many 
years  ago,  parting  with  his  child  in  order  to  fulfil  his 
vow  to  her  mother. 

According  to  Karsten's  wish,  the  chaplain  was  sent 
for.  Not  a  moment  did  he  hesitate  on  receiving  Nora's 
letter,  but  hastened,  like  a  trusty  friend,  to  receive  Kar- 
sten's last  words  as  he  had  received  Helena's,  and  to 
assume  once  more  the  protection  Nora  seemed  now 
to  need  as  much  as  when  a  little  child.  In  this  char- 
acter, when  the  last  rites  were  over,  he  asked  her  about 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  293 

her  future  prospects.  At  that  moment  a  letter  was 
handed  to  her,  in  which  she  seemed  buried.  As  she 
raised  her  eyes  tears  hung  on  the  lids,  but  her  expres- 
sion was  firm  as  she  said,  "  This  letter  is  an  answer  to 
your  question.  You  can  hardly  believe  how  full  of  love 
and  truth  it  is." 

"  From  Baron  Dahnow  ?"  the  chaplain  asked,  and  a 
tone  of  uneasiness  sounded  in  his  voice. 

"Yes,"  she  replied;  "Baron  Dahnow  heard  of  the 
death  of  my  father,  and  in  this  grief  comes  to  offer  me 
love  and  protection  with  his  hand  and  name." 

"  It  is  an  offer  worthy  of  his  noble  character,  but  re- 
quires to  be  considered,"  said  the  priest,  with  evident 
hesitation.  He  knew  well  in  what  an  equivocal  position 
circumstances  had  placed  Nora,  and  he  fully  understood 
what  marriage  with  a  man  like  Dahnow  would  be  to  her, 

"  No,"  she  replied  with  decision  ;  "it  is  not  to  be 
considered.  But  such  a  proposition  enables  me  to  be 
sure  of  myself.  All  that  once  seemed  so  sweet  to  me 
has  lost  its  charm.  The  tree  that  has  once  been  with- 
ered by  such  a  storm  does  not  bloom  again  ;  but,  thank 
God,  it  is  not  dead,  and  can  still  spread  its  branches." 
She  spoke  in  low  tones,  as  if  communing  with  herself. 

"  I  do  not  quite  understand  you,"  said  the  chaplain. 
"  There  are  unselfish  hearts  that  are  happy  in  giving 
love  without  exacting  it  in  the  same  proportion,  and  to 
many  a  woman's  heart  this  is  happier  than  to  mourn  for 
the  deeper  feeling." 

"  I  thank  God  for  the  consideration,"  she  cried,  in- 
terrupting him,  "  and  were  it  not  that  the  voice  of  duty 


294  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

forbids  it,  I  would  gladly — oh,  so  gladly,  reward  such 
loyalty  with  my  whole  life  ;  but  not  even  the  tenderest 
love  can  silence  that.  No  ;  I  shall  have  no  more  divided 
duty." 

"  And  yet,"  said  the  chaplain  sadly,  for  he  did  not 
dare  advise,  "  it  would  be  such  a  comfort  to  know  you 
were  hidden  in  a  safe  haven." 

Nora  raised  her  beautiful  head  dreamily,  and  re- 
peated, "  A  haven  ;  yes,  such  a  marriage  would  be  a 
quiet,  retired  haven.  Do  you  honestly  believe  I  could 
be  happy  there  ?  I  am  my  father's  own  daughter.  Rest- 
less blood  courses  in  my  veins  that  longs  for  action.  If 
I  was  willing  to  undertake  the  struggle  for  worldly 
things,  let  me  now  do  so  for  higher." 

"  Beware  of  forming  morbid  resolutions,"  warned  the 
priest  anxiously.  "  When  the  heart  has  experienced 
disappointment  it  is  apt  to  fancy  it  has  nothing  more  in 
life." 

"  But  I  have  to  do  with  life,"  she  said,  while  a  sad 
smile  played  around  her  lips.  "  I  am  going  to  live  in 
earnest.  The  time  has  passed  when  I  would  have  been 
willing  to  bury  my  heart.  Now  if  it  cannot  have  its 
desires,  it  will  have  its  duties.  Do  you  not  believe  that 
the  Lord  has  still  strength  and  work  for  me  ?" 

She  rose  up  and  stood  before  him  in  the  full  beauty 
of  her  womanhood,  and  from  her  eyes  shone  forth  an 
enthusiasm  far  from  morbid  indifference. 

"  And  the  little  boy  ?"  suggested  the  priest,  pointing 
to  her  brother,  who  stood  at  a  distance. 

"  My  first  duty  is  toward  him,  and  I  shall  try  to  fulfil 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  295 

it.  I  shall  find  him  a  new  home  on  the  other  side  of 
the  ocean  with  my  mother's  people.  He  shall  not  want 
for  love  or  protection.  There  he  can  more  easily  find 
a  successful  future,  and  there  I  shall  find  a  field  for  my 
labors.  Baron  Dahnow's  account  of  his  travels  in 
America  has  filled  me  with  enthusiasm  for  the  New 
World,  where  there  is  much  to  be  done.  However,  that 
is  for  future  consideration.  You,  my  best  friend,  will 
help  me  to  make  the  change,  as  you  did  to  make  a 
crucial  one  long  ago." 

The  priest  reached  out  his  hand  to  her,  saying,  "  You 
have  undertaken  much.  For  the  third  time  you  have 
chosen  strife  and  struggle.  The  Lord  is,  indeed,  guid- 
ing you  by  strange  ways.  Your  mother  desired  nothing 
for  you  but  your  salvation,  and  I  believe  her  wish  is  to 
be  consummated.  All  your  desires  seem  to  tend  that 
way.  May  God's  blessing  be  upon  you.  You  have 
been  sorely  tried." 

"  Is  there  but  one  May-time  in  life  ?"   she  asked. 

A  short  time  after  the  scenes  here  described  a  young 
couple  entered  a  hotel  at  one  of  the  South  German 
mountain  resorts,  coming  from  the  south  of  Europe. 
The  lady's  whole  attention  was  absorbed  by  a  young 
baby,  who  had  been  born  in  Italy,  and  whom  they  were 
bringing  by  slow  stages  to  its  colder  German  home. 

The  gentleman  appeared  rather  wearied  by  the  moth- 
er's absorbing  anxieties.  Notwithstanding  his  natural 
paternal  pride,  he  availed  himself  of  the  first  opportu- 
nity to  escape  to  the  terrace,  which  commanded  a  grand 
view  of  the  setting   sun  and   red,   purple,   and  golden 


296  THE     circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

clouds.  His  attention  was  directed  to  a  second  tourist, 
who  had  seated  himself  at  a  little  distance  on  the  ter- 
race with  his  back  toward  him.  Something  in  the  figure 
of  the  latter  seemed  so  familiar  that  he  approached 
him,  and  suddenly  exclaimed,  "  Is  it  or  is  it  not  ?  Dah- 
now,  surely  you  cannot  travel  incognito!  How  happy 
I  am  to  see  you  !" 

"  Ah,  Degenthal  !"  said  the  other,  turning  his  face 
toward  him,  but  the  tones  of  his  voice  betokened  no 
particular  joy. 

"  Yes,  it  is  I,"  the  first  replied,  "  on  my  way  home 
with  my  wife  and  child  after  three  years'  travel.  But 
what  is  the  matter  ?     How  are  you  feeling  ?" 

"  Probably  like  any  one  who  has  received  the  glove 
for  the  third  time." 

"  The  glove,  Dahnow,  you  handsome,  dashing  fel- 
low !     Impossible  ;  from  whom  ?" 

"  From  Nora  Karsten,"  replied  Dahnow,  looking  an- 
grily at  the  former  friend  of  his  youth.  It  was  an  un- 
fortunate meeting  between  one  who  loved  and  one 
whom  he  believed  to  be  the  cause  of  his  refusal.  "  Yes, 
from  Nora.  He  who  possessed  the  pearl  cast  it  away, 
and  no  other  hand  will  she  accept." 

"  From  Nora  Karsten,"  repeated  Degenthal  re- 
servedly ;   "  from  her  whom  Landolfo — " 

"  It  is  easy  to  believe  what  we  want  to  believe,"  was 
Dahnow's  answer  as  he  turned  his  back.  But  Degen- 
thal turned  him  round,  crying,  "  What  do  you  mean  ? 
What  was  there  to  believe  ?     What  was  not  true  ?" 

"  The   foulest   lie    that    ever    was    uttered,   to    have 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  297 

connected  the  name  of  such  a  girl  with  such  a  rascal, 
such  a  being  with  such  a  hound  !  Whoever  believed  it, 
wished  to  believe  it.  If  you  do  not  already  know  it,  let 
me  tell  you,  it  was  her  step-mother  who  ran  away  with 
the  manager,  leaving  husband  and  child.  To  shelter 
themselves,  the  despicable  pair  laid  the  blame  on  Nora, 
and  every  one  believed  the  lie." 

"  That  is  impossible,  impossible  !"  cried  Degenthal. 
"  With  my  own  eyes  I — " 

"You  read  just  what  I  read,"  said  Dahnow  scorn- 
fully. "  But  I,  who  never  tried  to  steal  into  her  heart 
with  fine  phrases  ;  I,  who  never  swore  to  love  and  pro- 
tect her,  did  not  believe  it.  I  knew  her  too  well.  She 
stood  too  high  to  connect  her  with  such  calumny.  The 
first  inquiry  explained  all.  Did  I  not  warn  you,"  con- 
tinued Dahnow,  with  increasing  warmth,  "  that  circum- 
stances would  be  stronger  than  your  love  ?  Then  was 
the  time  for  you  to  withdraw  ;  but  you  seemed  true,  and, 
by  heavens  !  she  was  worth  it  ;  but  when  the  trial  came 
you  barricaded  yourself  behind  an  untruth.  Do  you 
want  to  know  how  I  found  her  ?  At  the  sick-bed  of  an 
unconscious  father  ;  none  with  her  but  the  deserted 
child  ;  her  reputation  smirched  on  your  account  ;  no 
one  to  help  her,  no  one  to  stand  by  her.  I  did  all  that 
a  man  can  for  the  woman  he  venerates,  but  I  could  not 
win  one  thought  ;  she  was  ever  true  to  you.  I  saw  how 
her  love  for  you  had  robbed  her  life  of  every  joy,  strong 
and  patient  as  she  is.  I  scorn  the  man  who  blights  a 
woman's  life  ;"  and  shaking  off  Degenthal's  hand,  which 
rested  on  his  shoulder,  he  walked  away. 


298  THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER. 

Degenthal  remained  alone.  He  did  not  answer  a 
word  to  Dahnow's  denunciation,  but  the  icy  feelings  of 
yore  gathered  around  his  heart.  For  three  years  he 
had  enjoyed  a  certain  amount  of  peace  and  happiness  ; 
for  three  years  he  had  repelled  every  thought  of  Nora,  " 
and  rejected  any  doubt  of  her  guilt  which  presented 
itself.      But  now — 

The  voice  of  his  wife  interrupted  his  thoughts.  ' '  Curt, 
Curt,  I  beg  of  you  to  come  here.  How  can  you  stand 
there  gazing  at  those  old  mountains  while  our  beauty 
is  here  !  Only  fancy,  he  notices  that  he  is  in  a 
strange  place.  He  will  not  go  to  sleep  unless  we 
change  the  position  of  his  bed — he  is  so  cute  ;  come 
help." 

Curt  went  obediently.  In  a  dreamy  way  he  took  his 
boy  in  his  arms,  admired  him,  and  wondered  at  his 
cleverness,  as  his  wife  and  the  nurse  expected  him  to 
do.  Patiently  also  he  changed  the  bed,  but  there  was 
something  in  his  manner  that  made  Lily  say  to  the 
baby,  "  Send  papa  away,  darling  ;  he  hardly  looks  at 
you,  and  is  only  happy  with  his  mountains  and  his  cigar. 
You  men  are  so  heartless  !" 

Curt  did  not  defend  himself  against  the  accusation, 
but  kissing  his  first  born,  went  out,  for  he  felt  he  could 
hardly  breathe  in  the  room. 

When  passion  awakes  in  the  heart  even  the  smile  of 
one's  own  child  has  no  power  to  soothe.  The  fresh  air 
seemed  to  have  but  little  effect,  the  summer  evening 
was  without  charm.  From  time  to  time  he  groaned  as 
if    in   pain.     Was   it    the   arrow   of   truth    piercing    his 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  299 

heart?  ''He  believed  tvho  wished  to  believed  Had  he 
been  willing  to  believe  ? 

The  moon  had  sunk  behind  the  hills,  and  Curt  was 
still  on  the  terrace,'  when  a  hand  was  placed  upon  his 
shoulder.  Dahnow  stood  before  him.  It  was  not  the 
moon's  light  that  made  both  men  look  so  pale. 

"Degenthal,"  the  latter  said,  "  I  come  to  say  fare- 
well. Forgive  what  I  said.  It  was  wrong  in  me  to 
disturb  your  happiness.  There  are  hours  when  the 
devil  takes  possession  of  men.  Let  us  say  no  more  on 
the  subject.  Words  do  no  good.  It  was  to  be.  You 
did  not  mean  to  be  dishonorable.  She  was  not  meant 
for  either  of  us.     Perhaps  it  is  for  the  best." 

"Where  is  she?"  asked  Degenthal,  and  the  words 
could  hardly  be  heard. 

"  Karsten  is  dead.  She  is  going  to  her  mother's 
country,"  replied  Dahnow.  "  Let  all  be  buried.  I  do 
not  like  to  leave  you  in  enmity.  This  evening  I  go 
away.  Farewell,  Curt.  Be  happy  in  what  God  has 
given  you." 

"Where  are  you  going?"  asked  Degenthal,  taking 
the  outstretched  hand. 

"  Where  ?  The  world  lies  open  to  the  homeless  man, 
but  the  migratory  bird  returns  to  the  nest  where  it  was 
hatched.  The  day  may  come  when  I  shall  return  to 
the  old  home  in  the  north." 

"  What  will  become  of  you  ?"  asked  Degenthal,  who 
seemed  in  a  maze. 

"What  will  become  of  me?"  repeated  Dahnow. 
"  Perhaps  I  shall  be  an  enigma  to  my  friends,  and  then 


300  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

an  agreeable  surprise  to  my  heirs."  But  the  would-be 
cynic  could  not  conceal  his  sad  heart.  The  word  passed 
unheeded,  but  became  a  prophecy. 

After  many  years  of  travel  Dahnow  returned  home, 
took  a  small  house  near  his  relatives,  and  buried  him- 
self in  his  scientific  researches.  His  house  was  a  model 
of  refined  comfort,  where  he  always  had  a  welcome  for 
a  circle  of  pleasant  people.  He  had  spoken  truly  when  he 
described  himself  as  "  an  enigma  to  his  friends. "  Many, 
indeed,  wondered  that  a  man  of  his  domestic  tastes  did 
not  marry,  but  he  obstinately  repelled  any  overtures  in 
that  direction.  The  ' '  pleasant  prospect  to  his  nephews' ' 
seemed  more  and  more  sure  as  years  went  by.  At  one 
time,  indeed,  the  prospects  seemed  threatened  by  the 
appearance  of  a  fine-looking  young  American,  bearing 
a  French  name,  who  placed  himself  under  Dahnow's 
protection.  He  was  anxious  to  become  acquainted  with 
things  in  Germany,  seemed  to  look  on  the  baron's  house 
as  a  sort  of  home,  and  remained  there  several  months. 
The  stranger  appeared  to  be  so  dear  to  Dahnow,  that 
many  of  the  relatives  wisely  shook  their  heads  ;  but  they 
were  satisfied  when  it  became  known  that  the  young 
American  had  large  possessions  in  his  own  country,  and 
was  not  to  be  feared  as  a  prospective  heir.  There  was 
a  good  deal  of  speculation,  however,  as  to  the  cause  of 
the  interest  which  Dahnow  manifested  in  him.  The 
latter  kept  his  own  Qounsel  and  smiled  to  himself.  The 
young  man,  who,  with  true  American  independence, 
quite  enjoyed  his  position,  and  who  showed  more  taste 
for  the  horses  and  dogs  than  for  the  scientific  pursuits 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  301 

of  his  host,  could  throw  no  light  on  the  matter,  unless 
he  might  ascribe  all  the  kindness  he  received  to  a  letter 
of  introduction  which  he  brought  with  him. 

Perhaps  it  was  a  name  which  he  so  often  mentioned, 
the  name  of  one  who,  with  characteristic  generosity, 
had  given  him  the  greater  portion  of  her  fortune,  or  a 
certain  resemblance  of  feature  and  expression  which 
won  him  so  warm  a  place  in  the  noble  heart  of  Clement 
Dahnow. 


302  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

ONCE  more  we  return  to  the  garden  of  Gohlitz. 
with  its  sunny  terrace  and  August  wealth  of  bloom. 
The  sun  is  shining  brightly  on  a  happy  company.  Grace- 
ful young  figures,  playful  groups  of  children,  men  and 
women  in  the  prime  of  life,  make  the  air  echo  with  joy- 
ous laughing  and  chatting. 

A  family  feast  was  being  celebrated  at  Gohlitz,  the 
birthday  of  the  head  of  the  house,  the  old  lord,  as  Curt 
Degenthal  had  been  called  since  his  eldest  son  married 
and  became  the  father  of  children.  Each  of  these  anni- 
versaries saw  a  constantly  increasing  family  circle. 

Curt  and  Lily  had  remained  loyal  to  Gohlitz.  After 
their  return  from  the  south  the  young  married  couple 
settled  down.  He  could  not  bear  to  be  the  cause  of 
interfering  with  his  mother's  long-cherished  dominion, 
and  Lily  was  more  than  pleased  to  remain  where,  since 
her  majority,  she  had  wielded  an  undisputed  sceptre. 

When  the  advancing  years  of  the  countess  made  care 
too  oppressive  Curt's  eldest  son  was  of  an  age  to  assume 
the  responsibility  of  his  grandmother's  property,  and, 
besides,  Lily  was  pleased  to  see  her  son  come  into  posses- 
sion of  property,  and  influenced  her  husband  to  further 
the  idea. 

The  old  countess  had  seen  all  her  dearest  wishes  ac- 
complished.    Her  son   had   married    the   heiress  whom 


THE    circus-rider's    DAUGHTER.  303 

she  allotted  to  him  since  their  earliest  childhood.  It 
was  a  happy  union,  for  Curt  always  showed  his  wife 
the  tenderest  care,  and  they  were  blessed  with  a  numer- 
ous family.  Lily's  fortune  had  adorned  the  high  sta- 
tion of  the  Degenthal  family,  and  the  proud  countess 
had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  her  grandchildren  make 
distinguished  alliances.  Yet  Providence  in  the  very 
granting  of  our  blind  wishes  may  allow  the  thorn  to 
grow,  which  is  all  the  sharper  for  being  of  our  own 
planting. 

By  his  union  with  Lily  the  countess  had,  in  one 
sense,  lost  her  son,  her  heart's  idol.  It  is  only  the 
noblest  nature  that  is  generous  in  material  as  well  as 
ideal  things.  Lily  was  not  a  noble  nature  ;  she  was 
narrow  both  in  mind  and  heart.  She  was  not  willing 
to  share  the  love  of  her  husband  and  children  with  any 
one.  She  could  not  acknowledge  any  other  influence, 
even  the  sacred  claim  of  motherhood.  True,  she  did 
not  propose  to  cause  any  unfilial  feeling,  but  knowing 
what  a  powerful  influence  his  mother  always  had  on 
Curt,  she  kept  them  apart  and  estranged  them  by  those 
hundred  and  one  tactics  so  well  known  to  the  female 
mind. 

Curt's  natural  indifference,  and  certain  recollections 
which  he  could  not  separate  from  his  mother  in  former 
days,  prevented  him  offering  any  resistance.  A  sad 
and  lonely  old  age  for  the  countess  was  the  conse- 
quence. 

Did  the  remembrance  of  a  certain  pair  of  dark,  loving 
eyes  and  a  sweet,  sympathetic  voice  echo  in  her  mater- 


304  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

nal  heart?  "A  daughter  worthy  of  you  in  mind  and 
heart,"  the  nun  had  said. 

When  the  chaplain  had  done  justice  to  Nora  by  re- 
peating her  story  and  trials,  the  countess's  high  sense 
of  honor  could  not  refrain  from  honoring  and  admiring 
the  heroic  courage  of  the  circus  director's  daughter. 
Her  own  loneliness  made  her  all  the  more  highly  prize 
Nora's  filial  sacrifices.  The  thought  would  com.e,  how 
different  might  it  have  been  with  her  had  she  had  such 
a  warm,  unselfish  heart  near  her.  How  such  a  mind 
would  have  stimulated  that  of  Curt,  now  grown  inert 
and,  through  his  wife's  narrow  jealousy,  shut  out  from 
intercourse  with  men  of  intelligence  ;  so  different  from 
the  promise  of  his  youth.  She  sighed  gently,  but  was 
far  from  remorse  ;  she  had  done  what  she  thought 
right,  and  would  regret  nothing. 

Time  had  dealt  gently  with  Lily.  The  stout  little 
woman  did  not  trouble  herself  with  matters  outside  her 
own  immediate  family,  and  there  all  had  gone  well. 
The  desire  of  her  girlhood  satisfied,  the  cravings  of  her 
weak  nature  asked  no  more.  Curt  belonged  to  her  un- 
reservedly ;  that  satisfied  her. 

As  she  leaned  to-day  on  the  arm  of  her  eldest  son, 
whose  fair  face  resembled  her  own,  she  looked  proud 
and  happy.  She  had  eyes  and  ears  for  him  only  and 
for  his  plans,  which  had  her  warmest  sympathy.  Her 
first-born  resembled  her  in  everything  ;  the  others  had 
inherited  their  father's  tall,  slight  figure  and  the  com- 
monplace intellect  of  their  mother,  with  the  exception 
of  the  second  son,  who  had  his  father's  brown  eyes  and 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  305 

thoughtful  forehead,  as  well  as  his  more  aspiring  nature, 
tempered,  fortunately  for  him,  by  some  of  his  mother's 
more  practical  bent.  Before  he  had  reached  his  eigh- 
teenth year  he  decided  to  devote  his  life  to  the  sacred 
ministry,  and  entered  an  order  devoted  to  foreign  mis- 
sions. 

Sadly  Degenthal  bade  his  boy  farewell,  but  he  always 
scrupulously  studied  the  happiness  of  his  children,  and 
in  the  matter  of  their  vocations  even  opposed,  when 
necessary,  his  absolute  little  wife. 

Secretly  Lily  consoled  herself  for  the  choice  of  her 
second  son  by  the  idea  that  it  would  enable  her  to  give 
more  pecuniary  means  to  the  elder. 

Father  Degenthal's  calling  had  taken  him  to  the  New 
World,  where  he  had  now  been  absent  several  years. 
He  remained  tenderly  attached  to  his  family,  and  never 
failed  to  unite  by  letter  with  them  in  their  home  fes- 
tivals. 

Curt  had  withdrawn  from  his  children  and  grand- 
children to  read  the  letter  which  had  been  brought  to 
him  from  his  favorite  son.  He  sat  in  his  study,  which 
opened  off  the  drawing-room  and  looked  upon  the  ter- 
race. The  vine-encircled  window  was  a  tempting  place, 
where  the  noise  of  the  company  in  the  garden  would  not 
disturb  him.  He  sought  the  light  in  order  to  read  the 
long  and  closely  written  missive.  To  his  surprise  there 
was  a  second  letter  enclosed,  bearing  no  address.  He 
put  it  aside  in  order  to  devour  the  lines  from  his  son. 

As  he  sat  there,  with  the  warm  sunshine  falling  on  his 
fine  head,  he  was  even  a  handsomer  man  than  in  youth. 


3o6  THE  circus-rider's  daughter. 

He  had  a  fine  figure,  and  though  his  hair  had  many 
silver  threads,  it  was  thick  and  luxuriant,  and  his  full 
beard  was  very  becoming  to  his  earnest  countenance. 

Since  his  meeting  with  Dahnow,  long  years  gone  by, 
he  evinced  a  certain  lack  of  interest,  which  was  attrib- 
uted to  his  rather  delicate  health. 

A  thoughtful  husband,  a  loving  father,  and  a  kind 
master,  he  had  governed  his  household  well,  but  more 
by  example  than  words.  It  was  only  in  his  literary 
pursuits  that  the  old-time  enthusiasm  could  be  recog- 
nized. 

It  was  only  when  his  increasing  family  unconsciously 
imparted  youth  to  him  that  he  was  tempted  from  the 
seriousness  which  had  settled  on  him  to  such  an  extent 
that  people  asked  what  could  it  be  that  made  Degenthal 
so  completely  bury  himself  in  the  bosom  of  his  family. 

To-day,  however,  as  he  read  his  letter  new  life  seemed 
to  return.  The  blush  of  youth  mounted  to  his  cheek  ; 
with  an  impetuosity  long  foreign  to  him  he  threw  his 
son's  half-read  letter  aside  and  seized  the  one  enclosed. 
He  tore  open  the  envelope  ;  a  number  of  newspaper 
clippings  fell  out  ;  he  did  not  notice  them,  but  seized 
the  small,  yellowed  sheet  within.  This  he  gazed  at  as 
if  it  were  an  apparition.  It  had  evidently  travelled  far, 
for  it  bore  many  postmarks.  The  address  was  almost 
effaced,  but  showed  a  lady's  hand,  evidently  written 
under  excitement,  and  beneath  were  words  he  knew  but 
too  well,  as  he  had  once  written  them  himself. 

Years  had  passed — years  which  had  left  their  sting  in 
his  life,   since  he  in   bitterness  had   received   this  very 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  307 

letter,  and  had  sent  it  back  unopened  with  its  contents 
unread,  the  ignorance  of  which  had  destroyed  his  life's 
happiness. 

His  hand  now  trembled  as  he  broke  the  seal.  Big 
tears  filled  his  gray  eyes  and  hung  on  his  long  lashes, 
as  he  now  read  the  words  that  had  streamed  from  the 
breaking  heart  of  the  writer — words  that  told  of  the 
sacrifice  which  filial  duty  had  exacted,  words  that  said 
farewell,  but  echoed  a  cry  for  help. 

The  old  man's  head  fell  on  his  breast,  as  if  the  woe 
of  those  days  welled  up  anew  from  his  heart.  Bitter 
came  the  thought  of  what  might  have  been. 

He  blamed  others,  and  yet  he  had  to  confess  how 
cowardly  his  own  conduct  had  been. 

As  a  resistless  avenger  the  old  love  arose  from  its 
grave.  He  saw  again  the  lovely  maiden,  who  had  been 
all  to  him,  in  the  springtime  of  her  youth.  Was  not 
that  the  vine-shaded  window  that  looked  out  on  the 
beautiful  Rhine,  the  nook  where  their  two  young  hearts 
spoke  vows  of  love  and  sympathy  that  were  to  last 
through  life  and  eternity  ?  Was  he  looking  into  those 
blue  eyes  that  mirrored  a  soul  ready  to  make  any  sacri- 
fice for  him,  and  for  which  he  was  offering  all  and  every- 
thing ?  Did  he  dream  of  the  time  when  he  risked  all 
for  the  mere  bliss  of  holding  her  once  more  in  his  arms  ? 

Again  he  saw  her  as  in  all  her  sorrow  she  stood  before 
him,  purity  in  her  form  and  love  in  her  eyes,  as  he 
dared  doubt  her  and  again  left  her  unprotected — 
easily  believing  what  he  wished  to  believe,  were  Dah- 
now's  words. 


3o8  THE  circus-rider's  daughter. 

The  L  itterest  sorrow  known  to  man  rent  his  heart. 
He  had  thrown  away  his  happiness,  he  had  lost  his  am- 
bition and  his  love,  and  embittered  his  youth.  The 
gray-haired  man  felt  his  life  a  failure  and  his  heart  a 
ruin.  He  swayed  to  and  fro,  and  the  name,  not 
uttered  for  years,  sprang  to  his  lips — Nora,  Nora,  as 
though  it  could  recall  life  and  love. 

Suddenly  he  started  as  if  the  invoked  name  had  an- 
swered, but  it  was  merely  a  knock  on  the  window-pane, 
and  a  curly  head  appeared  and  chubby  hands  were 
clinging  to  the  cornice.  "  Grandpa,  grandpa,  take  me 
or  I'll  fall  !  I  knocked  and  knocked,  and  you  did  not 
hear  me,"  said  the  baby  voice  of  one  of  the  youngest  of 
the  guests. 

The  complaint  awoke  the  grandfather  from  his  dreams. 
He  hastily  lifted  the  little  one,  who  clung  to  him,  and 
the  baby  embrace  warmed  his  heart.  The  child  of  his 
child  was  the  ambassador  that  made  the  present  bury 
the  past.  "The  child  of  my  child,"  repeated  he  to 
himself,  and  the  words  banished  the  visions  of  youth. 
What  had  he  to  do  with  early  love,  surrounded  as  he 
was  by  another  generation  ?  With  the  boy  folded  in 
his  arms,  he  looked  out  on  the  gay  groups  outside.  His 
wife,  who  had  been  true  to  him  ;  the  children  she  had 
borne  him,  and  who  honored  and  perpetuated  his  name  ; 
the  home  which  had  been  so  peaceful,  and  which  to-day 
smiled  on  him  in  its  autumnal  abundance — was  all  this 
nothing  ?  Could  he  complain  of  life  that  had  given 
him  so  much  ?  But  in  the  midst  of  the  group  he  saw 
standing  the  spirit  of  lost  happiness.     It  looked  from 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  309 

cloister  bars,  from  which  he  had  rescued  it  in  youth. 
Had  she  found  life's  path  too  thorny  ?  Had  the  ab- 
sence of  love  and  home  blasted  all  hope,  and  did  her 
broken  heart  accuse  him  ? 

Curt  turned  away  from  the  merry  company,  and  for 
the  second  time  seized  the  letter  that  spoke  to  him  of 
his  youth  and  love,  all  the  time  keeping  the  boy  on  his 
knee,  as  if  with  the  hope  that  he  would  exorcise  the 
bitter  thoughts. 

His  son  wrote  as  follows  : 

"  I  must  relate  to  you  an  occurrence,  father,  the  key 
to  which  you  perhaps  can  furnish  better  than  I,  much  as 
I  am  interested.  The  enclosed  letter,  which  was  con- 
fided to  me,  will  tell  you  all  and  explain  of  whom  I 
write.  You  know  that  the  house  of  our  mission  here  is 
but  a  small  one,  but  we  have  received  valuable  assist- 
ance from  a  community  of  nuns  near  by. 

"  I  have  heard  on  all  sides  of  the  difficulties  encoun- 
tered by  the  Mother  Superior  when  she  founded  the 
convent.  She  was  a  woman  of  wonderful  nerve  and 
will,  and  in  her  order  was  generally  selected  for  difficult 
missions  on  account  of  her  great  talent  of  organization. 
Her  former  home  was  in  this  neighborhood.  For  ten 
years  she  has  now  labored  without  ceasing  for  the  edu- 
cation of  the  children,  the  spread  of  Christian  knowl- 
edge, and  the  care  of  the  sick,  and  is  spoken  of  by  all 
most  highly  for  her  holiness  and  benevolence.  I  was 
delighted  one  day  to  be  sent  to  her  on  professional  duty. 
As  I  gave  my  name  to  the  French  portress  she  mispro- 
nounced it,  as  only  a  French  woman  could  ;  but  I  had 


3IO  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER, 

hardly  come  into  the  presence  of  the  Mother  Superior, 
a  woman  of  noble  presence,  and  who  must  have  been 
wonderfully  beautiful,  when  she  said  to  me,  in  the 
purest  German,  before  I  could  explain  my  business, 
'  You  must  certainly  be  a  Degenthal.  The  likeness  is 
unmistakable.  You  have  your  father's  eyes  and  fore- 
head, and  look  just  as  he  looked  at  your  age.  The  tone 
of  your  voice  is  the  same.  I  knew  your  father  very 
well.     Is  he  still  living  ? ' 

"  You  may  imagine,  father,  how  delighted  I  was  ;  it 
is  such  a  joy  in  a  foreign  land  to  meet  some  one  who 
has  known  the  dear  ones  at  home.  I  had  to  tell  her 
everything  about  you,  mother,  and  the  family.  She 
appeared  to  have  known  grandmother  and  the  chaplain, 
and  inquired  for  them. 

"  I  had  to  enter  into  every  particular  of  your  life,  and 
1  told  her  how  you  made  every  one  belonging  to  you 
happy  by  your  care  and  affection,  and  of  the  pleasure 
you  derived  from  your  studies. 

"  '  Yes,'  she  interrupted,  as  if  speaking  to  herself, 
'  he  always  had  a  noble  nature  and  a  bright  mind.' 
Her  speech  and  whole  bearing  convinced  me  that  she 
must  have  belonged  to  the  most  refined  circles.  Per- 
haps you  may  remember  her.  I  had  occasion  to  see  her 
often,  and  each  time  my  admiration  for  this  remarkable 
woman  increased.     This  all  occurred  last  winter. 

"  In  the  spring  one  of  those  terrible  epidemics  which 
sometimes  visit  us,  and  which  strain  every  nerve,  came 
upon  us.  This  noble  woman  was  untiring  in  her  exer- 
tions, and  her  practical  talents  worked  miracles  among 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  3II 

our  terror-stricken  people.  The  sick  and  the  poor  honor 
her  as  a  saint,  and  her  presence  in  their  homes  seemed 
to  give  them  new  courage.  The  city  made  public  ac- 
knowledgment of  her  services.  Other  cities,  visited  by 
the  plague,  called  for  her,  and  when  her  duties  here 
allowed,  she  hastened  to  the  assistance  of  other  houses 
of  her  order. 

"  Often  she  was  obliged  to  make  those  journeys  on 
horseback.  I  met  her  frequently,  and  was  struck  by 
the  equestrian  skill  shown  by  her,  most  remarkable  in 
a  woman  of  her  age  and  in  a  nun.  When  I  once  made 
some  remark  on  the  subject,  she  laughingly  said  she 
had  been  accustomed  to  riding  in  her  youth,  '  and  now 
it  is  good  for  something,'  she  added. 

"  About  that  time  I  was  sent  to  a  mission  which  de- 
tained me  from  home  for  some  time.  On  my  return  the 
awful  plague  had  spent  itself,  but  I  was  grieved  to  hear 
that  the  terrible  strain  had  broken  down  the  noble  nun, 
and  she  was  very  ill. 

"  I  received  a  message  that  she  wished  to  talk  with 
me,  and  I  immediately  went  to  her.  She  received  me 
with  her  usual  warmth,  but  I  was  shocked  to  perceive 
the  change  that  had  taken  place  in  her  appearance. 

"  She  lay  in  an  invalid-chair  in  the  convent  garden, 
and  a  lay  sister  sat  beside  her. 

"  '  You  see  what  I  have  come  to,'  said  she,  '  and  how 
I  have  to  be  waited  on.  However,  I  have  not  sent  for 
Father  Degenthal  professionally  ;  I  do  not  stand  enough 
in  awe  of  him  for  that,'  she  added  in  a  jesting  manner  ; 
'  but  I  want  a  favor  of  him,  if  he  does  not  think  me  too 


312  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

frivolous.  Will  you  bear  a  message  from  me  to  your 
father  ?  We  were  good  friends  for  years  ;  an  unfortu- 
nate accident  brought  us  together  as  children,  when 
your  grandmother  was  very  kind  to  my  parents  and  to 
me.  Later  a  misunderstanding,  for  which  neither  of  us 
was  to  blame,  separated  us,  and  the  possibility  of  an  ex- 
planation did  not  come.  I  am  unwilling  to  die  without 
it.  Meeting  you  seems  to  me  the  finger  of  Providence. 
The  Lord  does  all  things  well.  Send  this  letter  to  your 
father,'  said  she,  giving  me  the  enclosure  ;  '  he  will  know 
who  sends  it,  and  when  he  understands  how  all  occurred 
perhaps  he  will  judge  differently  from  what  he  did  in 
those  days.' 

"  The  tone  of  her  voice  was  sad  as  she  spoke,  and  a 
flood  of  recollections  seemed  to  overwhelm  her.  She 
ceased  speaking,  as  if  buried  in  thought,  and  remained 
so  long  silent  as  to  seem  to  have  forgotten  my  presence. 
Suddenly  she  opened  her  eyes  with  that  indescribable 
expression  peculiar  to  her,  and  continued,  '  You  see 
how  even  an  old  nun  can  cling  to  things  of  earth,  and 
concern  herself  with  them  in  her  last  days.  In  your 
youth  you  will,  perhaps,  wonder  at  this.  Old  age  is  so 
far  away  from  you  and  such  an  unknown  land  that  you 
can  hardly  understand  the  feelings  of  its  inhabitants  ; 
but  human  nature  is  human  nature  to  the  last  breath. 
This  we  understand  when  years  have  passed  and  seem 
so  short  as  scarcely  to  have  separated  us  from  youth.' 

"  She  spoke  as  if  to  herself,  but  each  word  had  so 
much  meaning  that  I  try  not  to  forget  one. 

"  '  I   want  to   send    your   mother  greeting  also,  the 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  313 

greeting  of  a  school-girl's  friendship.  I  have  long 
known  of  your  mother's  happiness.  Once  she  was  loyal 
to  me,  which  I  have  never  forgotten.  God  has  rewarded 
her  for  it  by  sending  her  such  happiness.'  She  hesi- 
tated, and  then  said,  '  But  I  have  also  been  happy,  very, 
very  happy.  Tell  that  to  your  father.  The  life  the 
Lord  has  sent  me  was  beautiful,  and  I  was  true  to  it  to 
the  end.  What  He  gave  me  in  my  youth  was  sweet ; 
He  guided  all  for  the  best,  and  we  have  all  followed 
the  paths  laid  out  for  us  as  though  we  had  chosen  them. 
The  Lord  sends  no  sorrow  without  its  consolation,  no 
cloud  without  its  sunbeam.  I  thank  Him  that  He  led 
me  into  His  service  ;  that  He  made  me  useful  to  many 
— perhaps  one  home  would  have  been  too  narrow  for  me  ; 
I  thank  Him  that  He  gave  a  home  to  the  homeless 
and  that  He  sent  you  to  me  to  receive  my  last  adieus.' 

"  She  took  my  hand  and  continued,  '  I  am  happy  to 
have  met  you.  Be  thankful,  young  man,  that  God  has 
called  you  to  His  service  in  your  youth  ;  we  mortals 
sometimes  wander  into  by-paths. 

"  '  But,'  she  continued,  '  the  conquest  is  all  the  better 
for  the  struggle.  Don't  you  think  so  ? '  she  asked, 
smiling.  '  That  is  a  comfort  to  many  a  struggler  ;  but 
you  are  right,  God  is  the  best  leader.  Now  tell  me  of 
your  mission.  I  am  tired  of  idleness,  and  if  you  have 
time  I  would  like  to  hear  of  the  activity  of  others.' 

"  I  told  her  of  my  work  and  its  results  and  promises. 
She  listened  with  sympathetic  interest,  and  her  quick 
perception  and  ready  grasp  of  each  particular  showed 
how   eagerly   she  had    entered    into    her  vocation.       It 


314  THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER. 

made  me  understand  the  meaning  of  her  words  that  one 
home  might  have  been  too  narrozv  for  her. 

"  As  I  told  her  of  my  plans  she  said,  '  I  may  not  see 
it  ;  they  are  going  to  send  me  to  the  mother  house  on 
account  of  my  broken  health.  It  is  a  sacrifice  to  give 
up  my  work  here,  but,  as  it  has  been  said,  I  do  not  take 
root  anywhere  ;  I  belong  to  the  wanderers.  Yet  I 
would  like  to  have  rested  here,  where  my  mother's  home 
was.' 

"  By  this  remark  I  understood  that  she  was  an  Ameri- 
can by  birth,  and  I  cannot  connect  her  acquaintance 
with  you  with  it.  She  must  have  had  a  varied  life,  for 
she  knows  almost  all  the  European  languages  as  if  they 
were  her  own.  When  I  had  to  go  I  expressed  a  desire 
to  see  her  again,  but  she  looked  at  me  thoughtfully  and 
said,  '  No,  my  young  friend,  let  us  take  leave  now. 
Your  mission  demands  all  your  time,  and  my  last  days 
must  not  trespass  on  it.  I  said  that  human  nature  re- 
mained human  nature  to  the  end.  I  have  given  it  its 
rights  ;  now  let  my  thoughts  be  directed  upward.  It 
was  very  kind  of  them  to  let  you  come.  What  I  have 
done  will  perhaps  be  of  good  to  others.  Come,  take 
the  blessing  of  an  old  woman,  for  you,  for  him,  for  all 
his  house,'  she  said  in  trembling  voice,  as  I  bowed  my 
head  and  her  hand  rested  upon  it.  '  Just  so  did  my 
mother  bless  your  father.  I  repeat  it,  it  was  a  blessing 
that  our  paths  crossed.' 

"  These  were  the  last  words  that  I  heard  from  her, 
and  each  one  is  written  on  my  soul,  for  they  seemed  to 
me  a  legacy  to  you,  my  father.     Her  last  wish  was  ful- 


THE    CIRCUS  RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  315 

filled,  for  her  illness  increased  so  rapidly  that  the  jour- 
ney to  the  mother  house  was  abandoned.  A  few  weeks 
after  our  last  conversation  she  died,  regretted  by  all, 
rich  and  poor.  Whatever  her  rank  may  have  been,  she 
could  not  have  received  more  honor  than  was  shown  to 
the  humble  nun.  I  can  never  forget  her  ;  it  is  a  bless- 
ing to  have  even  met  her,  who  had  a  heart  so  warm  and 
a  soul  so  worthy  of  heaven." 

So  wrote  the  son  with  all  the  enthusiasm  of  youth, 
and  the  old  man  read  it  with  a  feeling  of  mingled  thank- 
fulness and  sadness,  acknowledging  that  what  seemed 
bitter  had  borne  blessed  fruit,  and  that  even  the  short- 
sightedness of  man  tended  to  the  accomplishment  of  the 
designs  of  Providence. 

The  little  boy,  who  had  grown  weary  of  being  un- 
noticed, touched  the  letter  with  his  baby  fingers  and 
said,  "  Is  it  not  ended,  grandpapa  ?" 

"Yes,  darling,  it  is  ended,"  continuing  to  himself, 
"  ended  like  all  things  here  below — youth,  love,  and 
life — but  it  was  well  ended.'''  He  could  not  say,  as  she 
did,  "  It  was  better  so  ;"  but  he  said,  "  It  is  good  so." 
He  rose  and  felt  as  if  a  weight  had  been  lifted.  "  Yes," 
he  said,  "  she  was  right,  her  blessing  did  others  good." 

The  little  grandchild  wondered  to  see  his  grandfather 
collect  each  piece  of  paper  and  gently  lay  it  aside.  The 
old  man  smiled  as  he  recollected  how  he  had  once 
spurned  this  same  time-worn  letter,  and  how  a 
strange  fate  h.d  brought  it  back  to  his  hands  to  be 
honored. 


3i6  THE  circus-rider's  daughter. 

Secret  drawers  have  a  wonderful  charm  for  children, 
who  connect  everything  uncanny  with  them,  and  the 
boy  raised  his  little  head  curiously  and  mounted  a  foot- 
stool, to  see  what  his  grandpa  had  laid  away  so 
carefully  in  one  of  these  mysterious  places  in  his 
desk. 

Carefully  Curt  laid  away  the  letter,  and  then  from 
the  drawer  he  took  a  little  pearl  heart,  which  he  fast- 
ened to  his  watch-chain.  The  morning  that  that  little 
pearl  heart  was  placed  by  childish  hands  on  his  chain 
came  before  him  as  clearly  as  if  it  had  been  but  yes- 
terday. Again  he  saw  the  dying  mother  and  heard  her 
agonizing  words  ;  again  he  heard  the  chaplain  accept 
the  sacred  charge. 

Impatient  feet  and  loud  voices  broke  in  upon  his 
dreams,  and  a  happy  crowd  burst  into  his  room,  saying, 
"  Papa,  as  one  messenger  could  not  bring  you  out,  we 
have  all  come.  Richard  and  his  letter  must  not  keep 
you  from  us  any  longer." 

His  wife  also  came,  and  looking  sharply  into  his  face, 
asked,  "  Was  it  a  good  letter  ?" 

"  Yes,"  said  he,  "  it  was  ts. good  letter  ;"  and  his  kind 
face  beamed  with  delight  on  the  merry  crowd  sur- 
rounding him. 

"  Then  why  do  you  stay  away  from  us  when  we  are 
all  so  happy  ?"  asked  Lily  reproachfully. 

"  Our  son  sent  me  news  of  one  from  whom  I  never 
expected  to  hear  again — sent  me  a  greeting,  a  last  greet- 
ing. But  we  will  have  many  happy  days  together,"  he 
said,    as   he   drew  her  to  him.      "  God  has  granted  us 


THE    CIRCUS-RIDER  S    DAUGHTER.  317 

many  blessings — He  has  done  all  things  well.  Nora, 
the  circus  director's  daughter,  also  sends  you  greeting. 
She  was  more  than  happy,  she  was  holy." 


"  GocC s  flowers  groiv  in  any  soil." 


Printed  by  Bknziger  Brothers,  New  York 


NOVELS. 

FABIOLA  ;  or,  The  Church  of  the  Catacombs.      By  Cardinal 

Wiseman.     Illustrated  Edition.     Contains    large    full-page 

Illustrations  by  the  eminent   artists   Yan   Dargent,  Joseph 

Blanc,  and  others.  i2mo,  cloth,  special  design  on  cover,  $1.25 

This  is  the  only   i2mo  illustrated    edition    published.     The  beautiful 

illustrations  bring  more  vividly  before  the  reader  the  story  so  graphically 

told  in  this  Catholic  classic.    This  illustrated  edition  retails  at  the  same 

price  as  the  ordinary  editions. 

THE  CIRCUS-RIDER'S   DAUGHTER.      By   F.    v.  Brackel. 

Translated  by   Mary  A.   Mitchell.      i2mo,    cloth,    special 

design  on  cover,  $1.25 

Nora,  the  circus-rider's  daughter,  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  figures  in 

modern  fiction  ;  a  pure  girl,  who,  by  strength  of  character  and  nobility  of 

soul,  rises  above  her  surroundings,  and  stands  a  living  example  of  the  truth 

of  the  motto,  "God's  flowers  bloom  in  any  soil." 

THE    OUTLAW    OF    CAMARGUE.      By     A.    de    Lamothe. 

Translated  by  Anna  T.  Sadlier.     Cloth,  special  design  on 

cover,  $1.25 

The  story  opens  with  a  charming  picture  of  Provencal  manners  and  the 

happy  life  of  the  people.    The  description  of  the  rude,  semi-barbarous  game 

of  "  bull  throwing  "  is  as  exciting  in  its  way  as  the  chariot  race  of  "  Ben- 

Hur."    The  scene  is  suddenly  changed,  and  the  Revolution,  with  its  knife 

and  torch,  is  ushered  in.    The  story  is  a  very  touching  one. 

CONNOR  D'ARCY'S  STRUGGLES.     A  novel  of  Irish-Ameri- 
can Life.     By  Mrs.  W.  M,  Bertholds.     i2mo,  cloth,       $1.25 
"A  novel  well  worth  reading." — Catholic  Union  and  Times. 

IDOLS;  or.  The  Secret  of  the  Rue  Chaussee  d'Antin.  ByRAouL 
DE  N AVERY.  Translated  by  Anna  T.  Sadlier.  i2mo, 
cloth,  $1-25 

"  Evinces  a  master-hand.    The  interest  never  flags." — Catholic  Colum- 
bian. 

THE  MONK'S  PARDON.     A  Historical  Romance  of  the  Time 

of  Philip  IV.  of  Spain.     By  Raoul  de  Navery.     Translated 

by  Anna  T.  Sadlier.     i2mo,  cloth,  $1.25 

"  The  story  is  of   thrilling  interest,  and   holds  the  reader's  attention 

from  first  to  last." — Connecticut  Catlwlic. 

LINKED  LIVES.  By  Lady  Gertrude  Douglass.  Crown  8vo, 
cloth,  $i-5o 

"  By  all  odds,    the    best    Catholic    novel    that    has    come    under  our 
observation." — Catholic  Mirror. 

BENZIGER    BROTHERS,  New   York,   Cincinnati,  Chicago. 


STORIES  AND  TALES. 

FATHER  FINN'S  STORIES. 

Percy  Wynn  ;  or,  Making  a  Boy  of  Him.     i2mo,  cloth,  $r.oo 
"Full  of  exciting-  incidents."— /rwA  Monthly. 

Tom  Playfair;  or.  Making  a  Start.     i2mo,  cloth,  $i.oo 

"The  best  boy's  book  that  ever  came  from  the  press.' — Michigan 
Catholic. 

Harry  Dee;  or.  Working  it  Out.     i2mo,  cloth,  $i.oo 

"A  downright  good  Catholic  tale." — Liverpool  Catholic  Times. 

Claude  Lightfoot;  or,  How  the  Problem  was  Solved. 
i2mo,  cloth,  $i.oo 

"  A  more  fascinating  book  we  have  rarely,  if  ever,  had  the  pleasure 
of  reading."— Ca/Zw/zc  World. 

Mostly  Boys.     i6mo,  cloth,  $0.75 

A  collection  of  charming  stories. 

PETRONILLA,  and  other  Stories.     By  Eleanor  C.  Donnelly. 
i2mo,  cloth,  $1.00 

"  Our  weariness  very  quickly  melted  into  breathless,  high-strung,  hot 
haste,  as  we  ran  along  the  string  of  events  which  rapidly  follow  one  another 
from  beginning  to  end." — The  Rosary  Magazine,  England. 

THE     FLOWER    OF    THE    FLOCK,    and   The    Badgers    of 
Belmont.     By  Maurice  F.  Egan.     i2mo,  cloth,  $1.00 

HOW  THEY  WORKED    THEIR    WAY,  and  other  Stories. 
By  Maurice  F.  Egan.     i2mo,  cloth,  $1.00 

"  Have  all  the  charm  and  fascination  so  characteristic  of  the  author's 
productions  in  a  lighter  vein." 

TALE  AND  LEGEND  SERIES. 

Tales    and    Legends    of    the    Middle   Ages.      By   F.    de 
Capella.     Edited  by  Henry  Wilson.     i6mo,  cloth,  $0.75 
"Anything  more  delightful  can  hardly  be  imagined." — Ave  Maria. 

Legends  and  Stories  of  the  Holy  Child  Jesus  from  Many 
Lands.     By  A.  Fowler  Lutz.     i6mo,  cloth,  $0.75 

"One  of  the  sweetest  little  volumes  sent  out  recently." — Catholic 
News. 

Five  O'Clock  Stories;  or.  The  Old  Tales  Told  Again.  By 
the  Sisters  of  the  Holy  Childhood  Jesus.  i6mo, 
cloth,  $0.75 

"Its   contents  is  as  delightful  as  its  cover   is  suggestive."— iV<?w 
World. 

BENZIGER    BROTHERS,  New  York,    Cincinnati,    Chicago. 


STflfiDfll^D  GATHOIiIC   BOOKS 

PUBLISHED  BY 

BENZIQER     BROTHERS, 

CINCINNATI:  NEW  YORK:  CHICAGO: 

148  Main  St.  36  &  88  BARCLAY  ST.  178  Monroe  St. 


A  KOST  LIBERAL  LISCODNT  from    the.se   Prices  (those  markcl  net  excepted)  will  be 

made  to  Dealers^.  Clerg-ymcii,  Religious  Institutions,  and  Schools. 

The  Postage  on  net  books  is  extra. 


Abandonment;  or,  Absolute  Surrender  of  Self  to  Divine  Providence, 
liy  Rev.  J.  P.  Caussade,  S.J.  Translated  by  Miss  Ella  McMahon. 
32mo,  cloth,  50  cents. 

Aletheia;  or,  The  Outspoken  Truth  on  the  All-important  Question  of 
Divine  Authoritative  Teaching.  An  e.Kposition  of  the  Catholic  Rule  of 
Faith,  contrasted  with  the  various  Theories  of  Private  and  Fallible 
Interpretation  of  the  Sacred  .Scriptures.  By  the  Right  Rev.  J.  D. 
RiCARUS,  D.D.      Second  edition.      i2mo,.  cloth,  net,  80  cents. 

Almanac,  Catholic  Home.    A  charming  Annual  for  Catholics,  25  cts. 

Analysis  of  the  Gospels  of  the  Sundays  of  the  Year.  From  the 
Italian  of  Angelo  Cagnola.  By  Rev.  L.  A.  Lambert,  LL.D.,  Author 
of  "Notes  on  IngersoU,"  etc.     8vo,  cloth,  net,  i  25 

Art  of  Profiting  by  our  Faults,  according  to  St.  Francis  de  Sales. 
From  the  French  of  Rev.  J.  Tissor,  by  Miss  Ella  McMahon.  32mo, 
cloth,  50  cents. 

Bible,   The   Holy.     With  Annotations,   References,  and  an  Historical 

and  Chronological  Inde.K.      i2mo,  cloth,  $I   25 

Imitation  morocco $3  00 

Calf,  round  corners,  red  and  gold  ed^es 5  00 

Morocco,  "         "  "         "     600 

Divinity  morocco,  calf  lined,  sewed  with  silk net,  12  75 

This  is  a  handy  edition,  printed  from  clear,  new  type  on  good  paper,  substantially 
bound,  at  low  prices. 

Birthday  Souvenir,  or  Diary.  With  a  Subject  of  Meditation  or  a 
Prayer  for  every  Day  in  the  Year.  By  Mrs.  A.  E.  Buchanan.  New 
edition,  with  ruled  pages  for  memoranda.     Cloth,  gilt,  50  cents. 

Blessed  Ones  of  1888:  Bl.  Clement  Maria  Hofbauer,  C.SS.R  ;  Bl. 
Louis-Marie  Grignon  de  iMontfort ;  Bi.  Brother  .^gidius  Mary  of  St. 
Joseph  ;  Bl.  Josephine  Mary  of  St.  Agnes.  From  the  German  by 
Eliza  A.  Donnelly.     i8mo,  cloth,  illustrated,  50  cents. 

Blind  Friend  of  the  Poor;  Reminiscences  of  the  Life  and  Works  of 
.Mgr.  de  SicGiK.      iSmo,  cloth,  50  cents. 

Brownson,  Orestes  A.,  Literary,  Scientific,  and  Political  Views  of. 
Selected  from  his  works,  by  H.  F.  Brownson.      lamo,  cloth,  net,  $1  25 

Burke,  Rev.  J.  J.  The  Reasonableness  of  the  Practices  of  the 
Catholic  Church.      i2nio,  paper,  .  20  cents. 

The  Reasonableness  of  the  Ceremonies  of  the  Catholic  Church. 

l2mo,  paper,  10  cent*. 


2       BENZIGER  BROTHERS'  STANDARD  CATHOLIC  BOOKS. 

Canonical  Procedure  in  Disciplinary  and  Criminal  Cases  of  Clerics. 
A  systematic  Commentary  on  the  "  Instrnctio  S.  C.  Epp.  et  Reg.  1880." 
By  the  Rev.  Francis  Droste.  Edited  by  the  Right  Rev.  Sekastian 
G.  Messmek,  D.D.,  Bishop  of  Green  Bay,  Wis.    i2ino,  cloth,  nei,  $1   50 

Catechism  of  Familiar  Things.  Their  History,  and  the  Events 
which  led  to  their  Discovery.  With  a  short  e.xplanation  of  some  of  the 
principal  Natural  Phenomena.  \Vith  16  full-page  Illustrations.  Cloth, 
inked  side,  f  i   00 

Catechism  of  Perseverance;  or.  An  Historical,  Dogmatic.  Moral, 
Liturgical,  Apologetical,  Philosophical,  and  Social  Exposition  of  Reli- 
gion from  the  beginning  of  the  World  down  to  our  own  days.  By  Mgr. 
Gaume.      From  the  10th  French  edition.     4  vols.,  nei,  $7   50 

Catholic  Belief;  or,  a  Short  and  Simple  E.xposition  of  Catholic 
Doctrine.  By  the  Very  Rev.  Joseph  faA  di  Bruno,  D.D.  Author's 
American  edition  edited  by  Rev.  Louis  A.  Lambert,  author  of 
"  Notes  on  Ingersoll,"  etc.  looth  Thousand.  i6mo,  flexible  cloth, 
40  cents.      10  copies,  $2.65 — 50  copies,  $12.00 — 100  copies,  $20  00 

Cloth,  red  edges,  75  cents. 

Catholic   Christianity   and  Modern   Unbelief.    A  plain  and 

brief  statement  of  the  real  dcictrines  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church  as 
opposed  to  those  falsely  attributed  to  her  by  unbelievers  in  Revelation. 
By  the  Right  Rev.  J.  D.  Ricakds,  D.D.      i2mo,  cloth,  7ie(,  $1  00 

Catholic  Memoirs  of  Vermont  and  New  Hampshire.    With 

sketches  of  the  lives  of  Rev.  W'ni.  Henry  Hoyt  and  Fanny  Allen. 
Also  with  accounts  heretofore  unpublished  of  the  lives  of  Rev.  Daniel 
Barber,  Rev.  Horace  Barber,  S.J.,  and  Jerusha  Barber.  l2mo,  cloth, 
ink  and  gold  side,  $1  00 

Paper,  50  cents. 

Catholic  Worship.  The  Sacraments,  Ceremonies,  and  Festivals  of 
the  Church  explained  in  Questions  and  Answers.  From  the  German  of 
Rev.  O.  Gisi.er,  by  Rev.  Richard  Brennan,  LL.D.  (25th  Thousand.) 
Paper,  15  cents;  per  100,  $9.00.     Cloth,  25  cents;  per  100,        $15.00. 

Catholic  Young  Man  of  the  Present  Day.    Letters  to  a  Voung 

Man  by  Right  Rev.  AuGUsriNE  Egcer,  D. D.,  P>ishop  of  St.  Gall. 
I'Vom  tiie  German,  by  M'ss  Ei.la  McALmion.  32mo,  paper,  15  cents; 
per  loo,  $(>oo.     Cloth,  inked  sides,  25  cents;  per  100,  $15.00. 

Christ  on  the  Altar.  Instructions  for  the  Sundays  and  Festivals  of 
the  Ecclesiastical  Year.  Explaining  how  the  Life,  Miracles,  and 
Teachings  of  Our  Lord  in  the  Holy  Land  are  continued  on  the  Altar  of 
the  Parish  Church.  By  Right  Kev.  Lotus  de  Goeshriand,  D. D., 
Bishop  of  Iku'lington,  Vt.  With  2  chromodithographs,  63  full-page 
illustrations,  240  illustrations  of  the  Holy  Land  and  of  Bible  History, 
ornamental  initials,  tail-pieces,  etc.,  etc.  Quarto,  cloth,  rich  gold  and 
ink  design,  gilt  edges,  $6  OO 

Christian  Anthropology.  By  Rev.  John  Thf.in.  With  an  Intro- 
duction by  Prof.  Chas.  G.  Herbkrmann,  LL.D.  Svo,  cloth,  nei,  $2  50 


BENZmEU  BROTHERS'  STANDARD  CATHOLIC  BOOKS       3 

Christian  Father,  The ;  what  he  should  be,  and  what  he  should  do. 
Together  with  a  Collection  of  Prayers  suitable  to  his  condition.  (25th 
Thousand.)  Paper,  25  cents;  per  100,  $15.00.  Maroquette,  35  cents; 
per  100,  $21.00.     Cloth,  50  cents;  per  100,  $30.00. 

Christian  Mother,  The;  the  Education  of  her  Children  and  hei' 
Prayer.  With  an  account  of  the  Archconfraternity  of  Christian  Mothers, 
together  with  its  rules,  prayers,  indulgences,  etc.  (35th  Thousand.) 
Paper,  25  cents;  per  100,  $15.00.  Maroquette,  35  cents;  per  100, 
$21.00.     Cloth,  50  cents;  per  100,  $30.00. 

Compendium  Sacrae  Liturgiae  Juxta  Ritum  Romanum  una  cum 
Appendice  De  Jure  Ecclesiastico  Particulari  in  America  Foederata  Sept. 
vigente  scripsit  P.  Wapelhorst,  O.S.F.     Crown,  8vo,  cloth,  net,  $2  50 

Cornelius  a  Lapide's  Great  Commentary  upon  the  Gospels.  Trans- 
lated and  edited  by  the  Rev.  T.  \V.  Mossmann,  B.A.,  Oxon.  Complete 
in  six  vols.,  net,  $18  00 

Correct  Thing  for  Catholics,  The.     By  Leli.\  Hardin  Bugg. 

Six///  edi/ion.      i6nio,  cloth,  75  cents. 

Counsels  of  a  Catholic  Mother  to  Her  Daughter.  Translated 
from  the  Frencli.      jSmo,  cloth,  50  cents. 

Counsels  of  St.  Angela  to  Her  .Sisters  in  Religion.  32mo, 
cloth,  net,  25  cents. 

Crown  of  Thorns,  The ;  or,  'l"he  Little  I^reviary  of  the  Holy  Face. 
A  complete  Manual  of  Devotion  and  Reparation  to  the  Holy  Face  of 
Our  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ.  By  the  Sisters  of  the  Divine 
Compassion.     32mo,  cloth,  50  cents. 

Eucharistic  Gems.  A  Thought  about  the  Most  Blessed  Sacrament  fof 
Every  Day  in  the  Year.  Compiled  from  the  works  of  the  Saints  and 
other  devout  writers  on  this  great  Mystery.  By  Rev.  L.  C.  Coelknbier. 
With  a  steel-plate  Frontispiece.      i6mo,  cloth,  gilt  sides,  75  cents. 

Examination  of  Conscience  for  the  use  of  Priests  who  are  making 
a  Retreat.  From  the  French  of  Gaduel.  Adapted  by  Rev.  Eugene 
Grimm,  C.SS.R.     Cloth,  flexible,  red  edges,  net,  30  cents. 

Explanation  of  the  Baltimore  Catechism  of  Christian  Doctrine. 

For  the  use   of   Sunday-school    Teachers   and  Advanced   Classes.      By 
Rev.  Thomas  L.  Kinkead.     i2mo,  cloth,  net,  $1  00 

Fabiola ;  or,  the  Church  of  the  Catacombs.  By  Cardinal  Wiseman. 
Illustrated  Edition.  Contains  an  exquisite,  artistic  Chromo-Frontis- 
piece,  32  full-page  Illustrations  and  numerous  engravings.  4to,  cloth, 
artistic  design  on  side  in  gold  and  ink,  red  edges,  $6  00 

The  same,  gilt  edges,  $7   5s 

Finn,  Rev.  Francis  J.,  S.J. 

Tom    Playfair;    or,    Making   a    Start.     i2mo,    cloth   gilt.     W^ith    a 

Frontispiece,  $I  00 

Percy  Wynn;  or.  Making  a  Boy  of  Him.     A  Story  of  Boy  Life  at 

Boarding-School.      With  a  Frontispiece.      i2mo,  cloth  gilt,  $1  00 

Harry  Dee;  or,  Making  it  Out.     i2mo,  cloth  gilt.     With  a  Frontis- 
piece, $1  00 


BENZIGER  £B0 TITERS'  STANDARD  CATHOLIC  BOOKS. 


First  Communicant's  Manual.  This  book,  prepared  expressly  for 
the  use  of  those  about  to  make  their  first  Communion,  contains  a  greater 
and  richer  collection  of  prayers  and  devotions  relating  to  the  Adorable 
Sacrament  than  any  other  prayer-book  of  its  size.  It  is  embellished 
with  numerous  full-page  illustrations,  head-bands,  tail-pieces,  and  an 
illustrated  Way  of  the  Cross. 

Red  line  edition.     32mo.     Prices  from  45  cents  to  $4  00. 
Edition  -without  red  line.     Small  32mo.     Prices  from  90  cents  to  $5.00 

Francis  de  Sales,  5t. 

Maxims  and  Counsels  of.     For  Every  Day  of  the  Year.     From  the 

French  by  Miss  Kli.a  McMahon.     32mo,  cloth,  ■  50  cents. 

New  Year  Greetings.     From   the   French  by  Miss  Magaret  A. 

CoLTOX.      32nio,  maroquette,  full  gilt  side,  15  cents  ;  per  100,  .f  10  00 

General    Principles   of  the    Religious    Life.     By  Very  Rev. 

r.oxiFxVCE  F.  Vkkhkyijn,  O.S.B.     32mo,  cloth,  ;«>/,  30  cents. 

Glories  of   Divine  Grace.      Translated  from  the  German  of  Dr.  M. 

]os.   ScHEEBEN,  by  a  Benedictine  Monk  of  St.   Meinrad's  Abbey, 

ind.     Second,  revised  edition.     i2mo,  cloth,  nei,  $1   50 

God  Knowable  and  Known.     By  Rev.  Maurice  Ronayne,  S.J. 

i2mo,  cloth,  "^/.  $1  25 

Goffine'S   Devout   Instructions  on  the  Epistles  and  Gospels  for  the 

.Sundays  and  Holidays;  with  Explanations  of  Christian  Faith  and  Duty 

and  of' Church  Ceremonies.     With  eight  full-page  Illustrations.      Crown 

8vo,  cloth,  ink  and  gold  side,  $1    5° 

"Golden    Sands,"    Books  by  the  author  of.     Translated  from  the 

French  bv  Miss  Ella  McMahon.     Each  with  a  steel-plate  Frontispiece. 

Third  Series,  32mo,  cloth,  60  cents. 

Fourth  Series,  32mo,  cloth,  60  cents. 

Fifth  Series,  32mo,  cloth,  60  cents. 

100     Persian  calf,  pailded,  gilt  title  and  floral  design,  round  corners,  edges  red 

under  gold •  • I'  20 

127     German  calf,  limp,  gilt  centre,  round  corners,  edges  red  under  gold i   80 

Book  of  the  Professed.    32mo,  cloth. 

Vol.   L        )  (      $1  00 

Vol.    II.       -  Each  with  a  steel-plate  Frontispiece.  -s         075 

Vol.   III.    )  '    ,  ,°  75 

Prayer.      Offered  to  Novices  and  Pious  People  of  the  World.      (P  aken 

from  the  "  Book  of  the  Professed.")      Cloth,  5"  cents. 

The   Little  Book  of   Superiors.     With  a  steel-plate  Frontispiece. 

32mo,  cluth,  75  cents. 

Spiritual  Direction.     For  the  use  of  Religious  Communities.      W  ilh 

a  slecl-plate  Frontispiece.      32mo,  cloth,  75  cents. 

Little  Month  of  May.     321110,  maroquette,  25  cents. 

Little  Month  of  the  Souls  in  Purgatory.     With  Prayers  for  the 

Suffcrin-  Souls  a  Rosavv,  a  W'.-iV  of  the  ( 'nos,  and  a  Manner  of  Hearing 

Mass  for  the  SomIs  in  Purgatory.      32mo,  l)lack  maroquette,  35  cent.s. 
Hints  on  Letter  Writing  for  Academies  and  for  Self  Instruction. 

i6mo,  cloth,  60  cents. 


BENZIGER  BROTHERS'  STANDARD  CATHOLIC  BOOKS.       5 

Golden    Prayer,   The.      Short   Meditations  ou  the  Lord's  Prayer  for 
Every  Day  in  the  Week.      With  other  Meditations  on  Prayer  for  Every 
Day   in   the   Month.     From   the   French   of   the  Ahue   Duquesxe,   by 
A.NNE  Stuart  Bailey. 
Paper,  lo  cents ;  per  lOO,  $6  oo 

Maroquette,   20     "  "  I2  oo 

The  same,  fine  edition,  with  red  line,  cloth  gilt,  50  cents. 

Greetings  to  the  Christ=ChiId.  A  Collection  of  Christmas  Poems 
for  the  Young.  Embellished  with  9  Illustrations,  Tail-pieces,  etc.,  etc. 
Square  i6mo,  full  gilt  side,  50  cents. 

Handbook  for  Altar  Societies  and  Guide  for  Sacristans  and  others 
having  charge  of  the  jVltar  and  Sanctuary.  By  a  Member  OF  AN 
Altar  Society.     i6mo,  cloth,  red  edges,  net,  75  cents. 

Handbook  of  the  Christian  Religion.    For  the  use  of  Advanced 

Students  and  the  Educated  Laity.  By  Rev.  W.  Wilmers,  S.J.  From 
the  German.  Edited  by  Rev.  James  Conway,  S.J.  Second  edition, 
with  supplement.      i2mo,  cloth,  net,  $1    50 

Happy  Year,  A  ;  or,  the  Year  Sanctified  by  meditating  on  the  IMaxims 
and  Sayings  of  the  Saints.  From  the  French  of  Abee  Las.altsse,  by 
Mrs.  J.4MES  O'Brien.      i2mo,  cloth,  iiet,  $1  00 

Heart,  The,  of  5t.  Jane  Frances  de  Chantal.     Thoughts  and 

Prayers  compiled  from  the  French  by  the  Sisters  of  the  Divine  Com- 
passion.     32mo,  cloth,  with  portrait  of  the  Saint,  50  cents. 

Hidden  Treasure;  or,  The  Value  and  E.xcelience  of  the  Holy  Mass. 
With  a  Practical  and  Devout  Method  of  Hearing  it  with  Profit.  By  the 
Blessed  Leonard  of  Port-Maurice.     32mo,  cloth,  50  cents. 

History  of  Confession;  or,  the  Dogma  of  Confession  Vindicated 
from  the  attacks  of  Heretics  and  Infidels.  From  the  French  of  Rev. 
Ambroisk  Guillois,  by  Right  Rev.  I^ouis  Dii  Goksbriand,  D.D., 
Bishop  of  Burlington,  Vt.      i6mo,  cloth,  net,  75  cents. 

History  of  the  Catholic  Church  within  the  Limits  of  the  United 
States,  from  the  fiist  attempted  Colonization  to  the  present  time.  By 
John  GiLMAKY  Shea.      Bound  in  cloth,  per  volume,  //t'/,  $5  00 

Vol.  I.       The  Catholic  Church  in  Colonial  Days. 
Vol.  II.     Life  and  Times  of  Archbishop  Carroll. 
Vol.  III.   From  the  Division  of  the  Diocese  of  Baltimore  to  the 

Fifth  Council  of  Baltimore,  1843. 
Vol.  IV.    From  the  Fifth  Provincial  Council  of  Baltimore,   1843, 
to  the  Second  Plenary  Council  of  Baltimore,  1866. 

History    of   the   Catholic   Church,    by  Dr.    Ii.   Brueck,  with 

Additions  from  the  Writings  of  His  Eminence  Cardinal  Hergenrother. 
Translated  by  Rev.  E.  Pruente.  With  an  Introduction  by  the  Rt.  Rev. 
J.  A.  Corcoran,  S.T.D.  Second  edition.  2  vols.,  8vo,  cloth,  net,  $3  00 
History  of  the  Catholic  Church.  Adapted  from  the  original  of 
Rev.  L.  C.  BusixdER,  by  Rev.  Richard  Brennan,  LL.D.  Together 
with  a  History  of  the  Church  in  America,  by  John  Gilmary  Shea, 
LL.D.    With  go  Illustrations.    Svo,  cloth,  ink  and  gold  side,  ^2  oy 


fi       BENZIOER  BROTHERS'  STANDARD  CATHOLIC  BOOKS. 

Holy  Face  of  Jesus,  The;  A  Series  of  Meditations  on  the  Litany  of 
the  Holy  Face.  Adapled  from  the  French  of  tlie  Abbe  J.  B.  FouRAULT, 
by  the  Sisters  of  the  Divine  Compassion.     32mo,  cloth,  50  cents. 

Home   Rule  Movement,   with  a  Sketch  of  Irish  Parties  from  1843. 

By  T.  1\  O'CuNNOK,  iM.P.      Large  8vo,  578  pages,  cloih,  $3   50 

Hours    Before  the  Altar ;    or,    Meditations  on  the  Holy  Eucharist. 

By  Myr.  Dk  L.\  Bouillerie.     32mo,  cloth,  50  cents. 

How    They    Worked    Their    Way,    and   other    Tales.      (Stories   of 

Duly.)     By  M.  F.  EoAN,  LL.D.      i2mo,  cloth,  $1  00 

How   to   Get  On.      By  Rev.  Bernard  Feeney.    With  an  Introduction 

by  His  Grace,  the  Most  Rev.  VVm.  H.  Gross,   D.D.,  C.SS.R.     i2mo, 

paper,  50  cents  ;  cloth,  $r  00 

Hunolt's  Sermons.      Sermons  by  the  Rev.  Francis  Hunolt,  Priest 

of    the   Society  of  Jesus   and   Preacher  in    the  Cathedral    of  Treves. 

Translated  from  the  original  German  edition  of  Cologne,  1740,  by  the 

Rev.  J.  Allen,  D.D.,  Chaplain  of  the  Dominican  Convent  of  the  Sacred 

Heart,  King  Williamstown,  South  Africa. 

The  Sermons  are  adapted  to  all  the  Sundays  and  Holy-days  of  the 

Year,  and  each  set  contains  a  full  index  of  all  the  sermons,  an  alphabet- 
ical index  of  the  principal  subjects  treated,  and  copious  marginal  notes. 

Per  set  of  2  vols.,  nci,  $5  00 

Vols.  I,  2.     The  Christian  State  of  Life. 

Vols.  3,  4.     The  Bad  Christian. 

Vols.  5,  6.     The  Penitent  Christian. 

Vols.  7,  8.     The  Good  Christian. 

Vols.  9,   10.  The  Christian's  Last  End.     lit  press. 

Vols.  11,12.  The  Christian's  Model.     In  prepamiiott. 
idols  ;   or,  The  Secret  of  the  Rue  Chaussee  d'Antin.     Translated  from  the 

French  of  Raoul  de  Navery,  by  Miss  Anna  T.  Sadlier.     Second 

edition,  revised.      l2mo,  cloth,  %\  25 

Instructions  on  the  Commandments  of  God  and  the  Sacraments 

of    the   Church.      From    the    Italian    of    St.    Ali'HONSUS   de   Liguori. 

Edited  by   Rev.    Eugene  Grimm,   C.SS.R.     32mo,   cloth,    50  cents; 

maroquette,  35  cents. 

Interior  of  Jesus  and  Mary.     By  Pere  Grou.    New  edition.    Revised 

and  edited  by  Rev.  S.  II.  Fkishee,  S.J.     2  vols.,  i2nio,  cloth,   net,  %2.  00 

Joseph,   St.,   the  Advocate  of    Hopeless  Cases.     From  the 

French  of  Rev.  Father  Hugi'I'.t,  Marist.      32mo,  cloth,  %\  00 

KoningS,  Theologia  Moralis.  Novissimi  Ecciesia:  Doctoris  s. 
Alphonsi.  In  Compendium  Kedacta,  et  Usui  Venerabilis  Cleri  Ameri- 
cani  Accommodata,  Auctore  A.  Konings,  CSS  R.  Editio  septima, 
auctior,  et  novis  curis  expolitior,  curante  Henrico  Kui'ER,  CSS.  R. 
Two  vols.,  royal  8vo,  half  morocco,  net,  $5  00 

'Phe  two  vols,  in  one,  half  morocco,  net,  %  400 

Leper  Queen,  The.     A  story  of  the  Thirteenth  Century.     i6mo,  cloth, 

50  cents. 


BENZIGER  BROTHERS'  STANDARD  CATHOLIC  BOOKS.      7 

Life  and  Acts  of  Leo  XI IT.  Preceded  by  a  sketch  of  the  Last 
Days  of  Pius  IX.,  and  the  Oiigia  and  Laws  of  the  Conclave.  New 
and  enlarged  edition.  Compiled  and  translated  from  Authentic  Sources, 
by  Rev.  Joseph  E.  Keller,  S.J.  Fully  and  beautifully  illustrated. 
Crown  8vo,  cloth,  full  gilt  side,  !J!2  Oo 

Life  of  5t.  Clare  of  Montefalco,  Professed  Nun  of  the  Order 
of  Hermits  of  St.  Augustine.  Translated  by  Rev.  Joseph  A.  Locke, 
O.S.A.     l2mo,  cloth,  $i  oo 

Life  of  St.  Ignatius  of  Loyola.  By  Father  Genelli,  of  the  Society 
of  Jesus.      With  a  steel-plate  I'luiitispiece.      i2mo,  cloth,  ,fi   50 

Life  of  Our  Lord   and   Saviour  Jesus  Christ   and  of  His 

Blessed  Mother.  Translated  and  adapted  from  the  original  of  Rev. 
L.  C.  BusLNGER  by  Rev.  Richard  Brennan,  LL.D.  With  nearly  600 
choice  Engravings. 

No.  I.     Roan  back,  gold  title,  plain  cloth  sides,  sprinkled  edges nel,  $$  oo 

No.  3.  Morocco  back  and  corners,  cloth  sides  with  gold  stamp,  gilt  edges. k;?^,  7  00 
No.  4.     Fidl  morocco,  richly  gilt  back,  with  large  figure  of  Our  Lord  in  gold 

(in  side,  gilt  edges , nei,     9  00 

No.  5.     Full  niorucco,  block-panelled  sides,  superbly  gilt,  gilt  edges ncf,   10  00 

Life  of  Father  Charles  Sire,  of  the  Society  of  Jesus,  a  Simple 
Biography  compiled  from  his  Writings  and  the  Testimony  of  those  who 
have  known  him  best.  By  his  brother,  Rev.  Vital  Sire.  i2mo, 
cloth,  tit'f,  $1  00 

Life  of  Father  Jogues,  Missionary  Priest  of  the  Society  of  Jesus. 
Slain  by  the  Mohawk  Iroquois,  in  the  present  State  of  New  York, 
October  i8,  1646.  By  Father  Felix  Martin,  S.J.  With  Father 
Jogues'  Account  of  the  Captivity  and  Death  of  his  Companion,  Rene 
Goupil,  slain  September  29,  1642.  Translated  from  the  French  by 
John  Gilmary  Shea.     Second,  revised  edition.     i2mo,  cloth,      $1  00 

Life  of  Mile.  Le  Qras  (I^ouise  de  Marillac),  Foundress  of  the  Sisters 
of  Charity  and  Co-operator  of  St.  Vincent  de  Paul.  From  the  French 
by  a  Sister  of  Charity.     i2mo,  cloth,  f  i   50 

Life  of  the  Ven.  Mary  Crescentia  Hoss,  of  the  Third  Order 

of  St.  Francis.  Drawn  from  the  Acts  of  her  Beatification  and  other 
reliable  sources.     i2mo,  cloth,  ink  and  gold  side,  $1   50 

Life  of  St.  Qermaine  Cousin,  the  Shepherd  Maiden  of  Pibrac. 
From  the  French  by  a  Sister  of  Mercy.     i6mo,  cloth,  50  cents. 

Life  of  St.  AloysiuS  Qonzaga.  From  the  Italian  of  Rev.  Father 
Cepari,  S.J.  With  Original  Notes  and  an  Appendix.  Edited  by  Rev 
F.  Goldie,  S.J.  With  a  chromo-lithographic  portrait  as  frontispiece, 
phototype  fac-simile  of  letter,  11  interleaved  illustrations,  and  108  other 
illustrations  from  historical  documents,  portraits,  interiors,  exteriors, 
plans,  genealogical  tables,  etc.    8vo,  cloth,  beautifully  bound,   /lef,  $2  50 

Life  of  St.   Francis  di  Oeronimo   of   the    Society  of  jesus. 

i2mo,  cloth,  n£i,  $1  75 


8      BENZTGER  BEOTHEBS'  STANDABD  CATHOLIC  BOOKS. 
Life  of  Right  Rev.  John  N.  Neumann,  D.D.,  Fourth  Bishop  of 

I'hiladelphia.  Fiom  tlie  Cerman  of  Kev.  A.  ISkkgkr,  C.SS.R.,  by- 
Rev.  EuG.  Grimm,  C.SS.R.      i2mo,  cloth.     With  portrait,  $i   50 

Life  of  Mary  for  Children,  The.  From  the  German,  by  Anne  R. 
Benne IT,  nee  Gladstone.      IlUistraled.     24mo,  cloth,      «f/',  50  cents. 

Life  of  Rev.  Mother  St.  John  Fontbonne,  Foundress  and  First 
Superior-Genera!  of  the  Congres^ation  of  the  Sisters  of  St.  Joseph  in 
Lyons.  From  tlie  French  of  Abbe  Rivaux.  With  a  steel  portrait, 
engraved  expressly  for  this  work.      i2mo,  cloth,  ^i   50 

Life,  Popular,  of  St.  Teresa  of  Jesus.  From  the  French  of 
L'.'\BiiE  Marie-Joskiti,  of  the  Order  of  Carmel,  by  Annie  Porter. 
With  a  steel-plate  Frontispiece.     Cloth,  ink  and  gold  side,  $1  00 

Liguori,   St.   Alphonsus   de.    Complete  Ascetical  Works   of. 

Centenary  p]dition.  Edited  by  Rev.  Eur.ENE  Gkimm,  C.SS.R.  This, 
the  first  complete,  uniform  edition  in  English  of  the  works  of  this  great 
Doctor  of  the  Church  will  be  in  24  volumes,  of  about  500  pages  each, 
and  offered  at  the  uniform  price,  per  volume,  of  ;/tV,  $1    25 

Each  book  i.s  complete  in  itself,  and  any  volume  will  be  sold  separately.  Volumes 
I  to  19  are  now  ready. 

This  edition  of  St.  Alphonsus'  Works  has  been  honored  with  a  letter  from  Our 
Holy  Father  Pope  Leo  XIII. 

Linked  Lives.    By  Eady  Gertrude  Douglass.    Crown  8vo,  cloth,  $i   50 

Little  Compliments  of  the  Season.  Sitnple  Verses  for  Namedays, 
Birthdays,  Christmas,  New  Year,  and  other  festive  and  social  occasions. 
With  numerous  and  appropriate  illustrations.  By  Eleanor  C.  Don- 
nelly.     i6mo,  cloth,  nt'f,  50  cents. 

Little  Office  of  the  Immaculate  Conception,  explained  in  Short 

Conferences.  By  Very  Rev.  JosEi'H  Rainek.  With  Prayers.  Suitable 
for  .Sodalities  of  the  IJlessed  Virgin.      321T10,  cloth,  ftcf,  50  cents. 

Little  Saint  of  Nine  Years.  A  Biographical  Notice.  From  the 
French  of  Mgr.  De  Segur,  by  Miss  Mary  McMahon.      i6ino,  cloth, 

50  cents. 

Lives,  Short,  of  the  Saints;  or.  Our  Birthday  Bouquet.  Culled 
from  the  Shrines  of  the  Saints  and  the  Gardens  of  the  Poets.  By 
Eleanor  C.  1)onnelly.     Third  edition.     Cloth,  gilt  side,  $1  00 

Lives  of  the  Deceased  Bishops  of  the  Catholic  Church  in  the 
United  States.  By  Richard  H.  Clarke,  LL.D.  3  vols.,  8vo,  cloth, 
per  set,  f'et,  $7   50 

Lourdes.  Its  Inhabitants,  Its  Pilgrims,  Its  Miracles.  By  R.  F.  Clarke, 
S.J.     Illustrated.     i6mo,  cloth,  75  cents. 

Luther's  Own  Statements  Concerning  his  Teachings  and  its 
Results.  Taken  exclusively  from  the  earliest  and  best  editions  of  his 
German  and  Latin  Works.  By  Henry  O'Connor,  S.J.  i2mo, 
paper,  15  cents. 


BENZIGER  BROTHERS'  STANDARD  GATHOLIC  BO^KS.       9 

Manifestation  of  Conscience.  Confessions  and  Communions  in 
Religious  Communities.  A  Commentary  on  the  Decree  "  Quemad- 
modura"  of  December  17,  1890.  From  tlie  French  of  Rev.  Pie  de 
Langogne,  O.M.  Cap.  With  the  original  Decree  and  the  Official 
Translation.      32ino,  cloth,  nei,  50  cents. 

Manual  of  Indulgenced  Prayers.  A  Complete  Prayer-book. 
Arranged  and  disposed  for  daily  use  by  Rev.  Bonaventure  Hammer, 
O.S.  ]'■.    (Prov.  S.  Joan.  Bapt.)    Small  32!no,  cloth,  inked  sides,  40  cents. 

Marriage.  By  Very  Rev.  Pere  Monsabre,  O.P.  From  the  French,  by 
M.  Hopper.     i2mo,  cloth,  ;;<:■/,  $1  00 

Martyr,  A,  of  Our  Own  Times.     Life  of  Rev.  Just  de  Bretkn- 

lEKKS,  Missionary  Apostolic  and  Martyr  in  Corea.  From  the  French 
of  the  Right  Rev.  Mgr.  D'HuLST,  Rector  of  the  Catholic  Institute, 
Paris.    Edited  by  Very  Rev.  J.  R.  Slattery.    i2mo,  cloth,  ue(,  75  cents. 

McCallen,  Rev.  James  A.,  S.5. 

Sanctuary  Boy's  Illustrated  Manual.  Embracing  the  Ceremonies 
of  the  Inferior  Ministers  at  Low  Mass,  Solemn  High  Mass,  Vespers, 
Asperges,  Benediction  of  the  ]51essed  Sacrament,  and  Absolution  for 
the  Dead.  With  numerous  illustrations.  Fourth  edition.  i2mo, 
cloth,  "t'f,  50  cents. 

The  Office   of  Tenebrae.     Transposed    from   the  Gregorian    chant 

into  Motlern  Notation  : 

Complete  Office  and  Appendix.     Cloth,  nef,  $1  65 

Complete  Office  ^without  Appendix.     Cloth,  ne/,  |i  00 

Appendix,  containing  harmonizations  of   the  Lamentations  separately. 

Cloth,  Jic'f,  o  75 

Meditations,  New  Practical,   for  Every  Day  in  tl  e  Year,  on  the  Life 

of  Our  Lord  Jesus  Clirist.      Chiefly  intended  for  the  use  of  rtligious 

communities.     By  the   Rev.    Father    Bruno  Vercruysse,    S.J.     The 

only  complete    English    translation.      Published    with   the   Approbation 

and  under  the  direction  of  the  author.      Enriched  by  several  Novenas 

and  Octaves;   MerUtations  for  the  First  Friday  of  every  Month  and  for 

the   days   of   Communion  ;    Exercises   preparatory   to    the    Renewal   of 

Vows,  and  for  a  Retreat  of  eight  Days,  etc.      2  vols.,  1244  p.nges.      E.\tra 

cloth,  beveled  boards,  red  edges,  $4  00 

Meditations  on  the  Passion  of  Our  Lord.     Together  with  a 

Manual  of  the  Black  Scapular  of  the  Passion,  and  Daily  Prayers.  From 
tlie  Italian,  by  a  Passionist  Father.  With  14  full-page  Illustrations 
of  the  Way  of  the  Cross.      32mo,  cloth,  red  edges,  40  cents. 

Meditations   for   Every   Day   in   the   Year.     Collected  from 

different  Spiritual  Writers  and  suited  for  the  Practice  called  "Quarter 
of  an  Hour's  Solitude."  Edited  by  Rev.  Roger  Baxter,  S.J.,  of 
Georgetown  College.  It  is  now  republished  and  revised  in  the  251st 
year  of  Jesuit  labor  in  the  United  .States,  by  Rev.  P.  Neale,  .S.J. 
Second  edition.      Small  i2mo,  cloth,  red  edges,  t/e/,  $1   25 

Meditations  on  the  Sufferings  of  Jesus  Christ.    From  the 

Italian  of  Rev.  Francis  da  Perinaldo,  O.S.F.,  by  a  member  of  the 
same  Order.     i2mo,  cloth,  $l  25 


10     BENZIGER  BROTHERS'  STANDARD  CATHOLIC  BOOKS. 

Merrick,  Rev.  D.  A.,  S.J. 

Saints  of  tlie  Society  of  Jesus.  i6mo,  paper,  ne^,  lo  cents  ;  cloth 
gilt,  jiet,  25  cents. 

A  Sketch  of  the  Society  of  Jesus.  i6mo,  paper,  jtef,  10  cents ; 
clo'h  gilt,  net,  25  cents. 

'Vliraculous  Power  of  the  Memorare,  illustrated  by  Examples. 

From  the  French  of  a  Marist  Father,  by  Miss  Ella  McMahon. 
Paper,  10  cents  ;  per  100,  |6  00 

jMaroquette,  20  cents;  per  100,  $12  00 

Mistress  of  Novices,  The,  instructed  in  her  Duties ;  or,  a  Method  of 
Direction  for  the  use  of  Persons  charged  with  the  Training  of  Souls  in 
Christian  I'eifection.  From  the  French  of  the  Abbe  Leguay,  by  Rev. 
Ignatius  Sisk.     i2mo,  cloth,  tiet,  75  cents. 

Monk's  Pardon.  A  Historical  Romance  of  the  Time  of  Philip  IV.  of 
Spam.  From  the  French  of  Raoul  de  Naveuy  by  Anna  T.  Sadlier- 
i2mo,  cloth,  $1  25 

Month  of  the  Dead  ;  or.  Prompt  and  Easy  Deliverance  of  the  Souls  in 
Purgatory.  From  the  French  of  the  Abbe  Cloquei-,  by  a  Sister  of 
Mercy.  Approved  by  the  Sacred  Congregation,  by  His  Lordship,  the 
Archbishop  of  Bourges,  and  His  Grace,  the  Archbishop  of  New  York, 
With  a  steel-plate  Frontispiece.     32mo,  cloth,  75  cents. 

Month  of  May.  From  the  French  of  Father  Debussi,  S.J.,  by  Miss 
Ella  McMahox.     4th  edition.     24mo,  cloth,  50  cents. 

Muller,  Rev.  Michael,  C.SS.R. 

God  the  Teacher  of  Mankind.     A  plain,  comprehensive  E.\planalion 
of  Christian  Doctrine.      9  vols.,  crown  8vo,  cloth. 
The  Church  and  her  Enemies,  7te/,  f  i   10 

The  Apostles'  Creed,  nrt,     1   10 

The  First  and  Greatest  Commandment,  ;/<-/,     i  40 

Explanation    of  the   Commandments,    continued.     Pre- 
cepts of  the  Church,  "i'A     i   10 
Dignity,    Authority,    and   Duties    o£  Parents,    Ecclesi- 
astical and  Civil  Powers,     Their  iinemies,  net,    i  40 
Grace  and  the  Sacraments,  net,    i  25 
Holy  Mass,  net,     i  25 
Eucharist  and  Penance,                                                         net,     i  10 
Sacramentals — Prayers,  etc.,  net,    i  00 
Familiar  Explanation  of  Catholic  Doctrine  for  the  Family  and 

more  .Vdvanced  Students  in  Catholic  Colleges,  Academies,  and  Fligh 
Schools,  for  Persons  of  Culture,  Old  as  well  as  Young.  With  a 
popular  Refutation  of  the  Principal  Modern  Errors.    i2mo,  cloth,  $1  00 

The  Prodigal  Son;  or  The  Sinner's  Return  to  God  Crown  8vo, 
cloth,  net,  $1  00 

The  Devotion  of  the  Holy  Rosary  and  the  Five  Scapulars. 
Crown  8vo,  "'•''.  75  cents. 

No  Salvation  out  of  the  Church.     Crown  Svo,  cloth,       ;/./,  $1  00 

The  Catholic  Priesthood.    2  vols.    Crown  Svo,  cloth,    net,  $3  00 


BENZIGER  BROTHERS'  STANDARD  CATHOLIC  BOOKS.      11 

My   First  Communion:  The  Happiest  Day  of  My  Life.     A  Trep- 

aration  and  Remembrance  toi-  First  Communicants.  P>om  the  German 
of  Rev.  J.  N.  BucHMANN,  O.S.B.,  by  Rev.  Richard  Brennan,  LL.D. 
i6mo,    cloth,   elegant.      Illustrated,  75  cents. 

Names  that  Live  in  Catholic  Hearts.  Cardinal  Ximenes— Michael 

Angelo — Samuel  de  Champlain — Archbishop  Plunkett — Charles  Carroll — 
Henry  Larochejacquelein — Simon  de  Montfort.  By  AJiss  Anna  T. 
Sadliek.      i2mo,  cloth,  li  00 

Natalie  Narischkin,  sister  of  Charity  of  St.  Vincent  of  Paul.  From 
the  Fiench  by  Lady  Ci.  FULI.ERTON.      i2mo,  cloth,  $1  00 

Novena  in  Honor  of  the  Holy  Face  of  Our  Lord.  Adapted 
from  the  French  by  the  Sisters  of  the  Divine  Compassion.  Paper,  10 
cents  ;  per  100,  $6  00 

Maroquette,  20  cents  ;  per  100,  12  00 

Novena  in  Honor  of  St.  Catharine  de  Ricci,  a  Religious  of  the 

Third  Order  of  St.  Dominic.  By  the  Dominican  Sisters,  Albany,  N.  Y. 
32mo,  paper,  net,  10  cents. 

O'Grady,  Eleanor. 

Aids   to    Correct   and    Effective    Elocution.      With    Selected 

Readings  and  Recitations  for  Practice.      i2mo,  cloth,  .fi   25 

Select  Recitations  for  Catholic  Schools  and  Academies.     i2mo, 

cloth,  $]    00 

Readings  and  Recitations  for  Juniors.    i6mo,  cloth,  net,  50  cents. 

On  Christian  Art.     By  Edith  Healy.     i6mo,  cloth,  50  cents. 

On  the  Condition  of  Labor.     Encyclical  Letter  of  Our  Holy  f\ather, 

Pope  Leo  XIII.     Svo,  paper,  10  cents;   per  100,  j|6  00 

One  Angel  More  in  Heaven.  With  Letters  of  Condolence  and  of 
Consolation  by  St.  Francis  de  Sales  and  others.     White  mar.,   50  cents. 

Our  Birthday  Bouquet.  Culled  from  the  Shrines  of  the  Saints  and 
the  Gardens  of  the  Poets.  By  Eleanor  C.  Donnelly.  5  6mo. 
cloth,  $[  00 

Our  Lady  of  Good  Counsel  in  Genazzano.    A  History  of  that 

Ancient  Sanctuary  and  of  the  wonderful  Apparition  and  Miraculous 
Translation  in  1467  of  Our  Lady's  Sacred  Image  from  Scutari  to 
Genazzano.   By  Anne  R.  Bennett,  nee  Gladstone,  32mo,  cloth,  75  cts. 

Our  Own  Will  and  How  to  Detect  it  in  Our  Actions.  Instructions 
intended  for  Religious.  Applicable  also  to  all  who  aim  at  the  Perfect 
Life.     By  the  Rev.  John  Allen,  D.D.     i2mo,  cloth,        net,  75  cents. 

Paradise  on  Earth   Opened   to  All;    or,  a  Religious  Vocation  the 

Surest  Way  in  Life.      32mo,  cloth,  50  cents. 

Path   which  led   a   Protestant   Lawyer  to  the  Catholic 

Church.     By  P.  H.  Burnett.     8vo,  cloth,  %2  00 


12     BENZIGER  BROTHERS'  STANDARD  CATHOLIC  BOOKS. 

Philosophy,  English  Manuals  of  Catholic. 

1.  Logic.     ]!)■  Richard  F.  Clarke,  S.J.     i2mo,  cloth,       ue/,  |r  25 

2.  First  Principles  of  Knowledge.  By  John  Rickabv,  S. J., 
Professor  of  Logic  and  General  Metaphysics  at  St.  Mary's  Hall, 
Stonyhurst.      i2aio,  cloth,  ;/tV,  $r   25 

3.  Moral  Philosophy  (Ethics  and  Natural  Law).  By  Joseph 
RiCKAKV,  S.J.      i2mo,  cloth,  .  tit'/,  $1   25 

4.  Natural  Theology.  By  Bernard  Boedder,  S.J.,  Professor  of 
Natural  Theology  at  Stonyhurst.      i2mo,  cloth,  ;/('/,  .fi   50 

5.  Psychology.  By  Michael  Maher,  S.J.,  Professr.-  of  Mental 
Philosophy  at- Stonyhurst  College.      i2mo,  cloth,  wtV,  $1   50 

6.  General  Metaphysics.     By  John  Rickaby,  S.J.     '7mo    cloth, 

Jlee^  $1   25 

7.  A  Manual  of  Political  Economy.  By  C.  S.  Devas,  Esq.,  M.A., 
E.xaminer  in  Economy  in  the  Royal  University  of  Ireland.  l2mo, 
cloth,  «<?/,  $1   50 

Pictorial  Lives  of  the  Saints,  With  Reflections  fc-  Every  Day  in 
the  Year.  Including  the  Lives  of  the  American  Sai'itri  recently  placed 
on  the  Calender  for  the  United  States  by  petition  of  ihe  Third  Plenary 
Council  of  Baltimore,  and  also  the  Lives  of  the  Saints,  canonized  in 
1881  by  His  Holiness  Pope  Leo  XIII.  Edited  l,y  Joh.\  Gilmary 
Shea,  LL.D.      50th  Thousand.     8vo,  cloth.  $2  00 

5  copies,  $6.65 — 10  copies,  $12.50 — 25  copies,  $27.50— 50  copies,  .$5000. 

Practice  of  Humility,  The.    By  His  Holiness  Pope  Leo  XHL 

From  tlie  Italian  by  Rev.  J.  F.  X.  O'Conor,  S.J.     32mo. 

With  red  line.     Cloth  gilt,  50  cents. 

Without  red  line. 

Paper,  10  cents ;  per  100,  $6  00 

Maroquetle,   20      "  "  12  00 

Praxis  Synodalis.  Manuale  Synodi  Diocesanae  ac  Provincialis 
Celebrandae.     i2mo,  cloth,  ;/t'/,  60  cents. 

Primer  for  Converts,  A.  Showing  the  Reasonable  Service  of  Catho- 
lics.     By  Rev.  J.  T.  Duravard.      32mo,  clolh,  flexible,     i/r/,  25  cents. 

Principles  of  Anthropology  and  Biology.     By  Rev.  Thomas 

HuciiEs,  S.J.      Second  edition.      i6mo,  clolli,  iw/,  75  cents. 

Reading  and  the  Mind,  with  Something  to  Read.    l>y  Rev. 

I.  F.  X.  O'Co.NOR,  S.J.     .Second  edition.      Paper,  23  cents. 

Religious  State,  The.     Together  with  a  Short  Treatise  on  the  \'ocation 

to  the   Priesthood.      From   the  Italian  of  St.  Alphonsus  DE  Lk^.Uori. 

Edited  by  Rev.  Elgene  Gklmm,  C.SS.R.      321110,  cloth,  50  cents. 

Rights   of   Our    Little   Ones;    or.    First   Principles  on  Education   in 

Catechetical  Form.     By  Rev.  James  Co.nvvay,  S.J. 

32mo,  paper,  15  cents ;  per  100,  $9  00 

cloth  inked,   25      "  "  12  00 

Rosary,    The    Most    Holy,    in  Thirty-one  Meditations,   Prayers,  and 

E.xamples,  suitable  for  the  Months  of  May  and  October.     With  prayers. 

By  Rev.  Eugene  Grimm,  C.SS.R.     321110,  clolh,  50  cents. 

Maroquette,  35  cents. 


BENZIGER  SROTITURS'  STANDARD  QATHOLIG  DOOKS.      13 

RUSSO,  N.,  S.J. — IJe  Philosophia  Morali  Pirelectiones  in  CoUegio 
Georgiopolitano  Soc.  Jes.  Anno  1889-90  Habitae,  a  Patre  NiCOLAO 
Russo.      Editio  altera.      8vo,  lialf  leather,  net,  $2  00 

Sacramentals  of  the  Holy  Catholic  Church,  The.    Ey  Rev. 

A.  A.  Lamking,  LL.D.,  author  of  "A  History  of  the  Catholic  Cliurch 
in  the  Dioceses  of  Pittsburgh  and  Alleghany,"  etc.  i2mo,  cloth,  nef,  %i  25 

Sacred  Heart,  Books  on  the. 

Devotions  to  the  Sacred  Heart  for  the  First  Friday  of  Every 

Month.     From  the  French  of  P.  IIuguet,  Marist,  by  a  Sister  of 
Mercy.     Cloth,  red  edges,  with  a  steel-plate  Frontispiece,    40  cents. 

213.     Imitation  Levant,  limp,  gilt  centre,  round  corners,  edges  red  under  gold,    %i  35 

Familiar  Conferences  on  the  Theology  of  the  Sacred  Ileait  of  Jesus. 
By  Rev.  E.  M.  Hen'nessv.     i2mo,  cloth,  $1.00;  paper,        secants. 

Imitation  of  the  Sacred  Heart  of  Jesus.  By  Rev.  F.  Arnoudt, 
S.J.      From  the  Falin  by  Kev.  J.  M.  Fastke,  S.J.    i2mo,  cloth,  $2  00 

Month  of  the  Sacred  Heart  of  Jesus.  Devotions  for  Every  day 
of  the  Month.  From  the  French  of  Rev.  Father  Huguet,  by  a  Sister 
OF  Mercy.     32mo,  cloth,  75  cents. 

One  and  Thirty  Days  with  Blessed  Margaret  Mary.  From  the 
French  by  a  Visitandine  of  Baltimore.      32mo,  maroquette,     25  cents. 

Pearls  from  the  Casket  of  the  Sacred  Heart  of  Jesus.  A  Collec- 
tion of  the  Letters,  Maxims,  and  Practices  of  the  Blessed  Marg..\ret 
Mary  Ai.acoque.  Edited  by  Eleanor  C.  Donnelly.  32mo,  cloth, 
red  edges,  gilt  side.     With  a  steel-plate  Frontispiece,  50  cents. 

Sacred  Heart,  Month  of  the,  for  the  Young  Christian.     By 

Brother  Philippe.     From  the  French  by  E.  A.  Mulligan.     32mo, 
cloth,  50  cents. 

Sacred  Heart  of  Jesus.  Short  Meditations  for  the  Month  of  June. 
By  R.  F.  Clarke,  S.J.    iSnio,  mar.,  gilt  side,  15  cents;  per  loo,  f  10  00 

Sacred  Heart  Studied  in  the  Sacred  Scriptures.     By  Rev.  H. 

Salntrain.  C.SS.R.     Crown  8vo,  cloth,  net,  $2  00 

Sacred  Heart,  Revelations  of  the,  to  Blessed  Margaret  Mary ; 

and   the    History   of    her   Life.      From   the    French   of   Monseigneur 
Bougaud,  by  a  Visitandine  of  Baltimore.  Crown  8vo,  cloth,  «<?/,  |i   50 

Year  of  the  Sacred  Heart.  A  Thought  for  Every  Day  of  the  Year. 
Drawn  from  the  works  of  Pere  DE  la  Colombiere,  of  Blessed 
Margaret  ]\L\ry,  and  of  others.     32mo,  cloth,  50  cents. 

Saints,  The -New,  of  1888:  St.  John  Berchmans,  S.J.;  St.  Peter 
Claver,  S.J  ;  St.  Alphonsus  Rodriguez,  S.J.;  and  the  Seven  Sainted 
Founders  of  the  Servites.  By  Rev.  Francis  Goldie,  S.J.,  and  Rev. 
Father  SCOLA,  S.J.     i8mo,  cloth.    With  4  full-page  illustrations,   50  cts. 


14    BENZIOER  BROTHERS'  STANDARD  CATBOLtC  BOOKS. 
5chouppe,  Short  Sermons  for  Low  Masses.     Comprising  a 

complete,   brief  course  of  instruction  on  Cliristian  Doctrine.      By  Rev. 
F.  X.  ScuoiMM'K  S.J.      Second  edition.      i2mo,  cloth,  jiet,  $i   25 

Secret  of  Sanctity,  The.  According  to  St.  Francis  de  Sales  and 
Father  Ckasset,  SJ.  From  the  French,  by  Miss  Ella  McMamon. 
i2mo,  cloth,  7tet,  f  i  00 

Seraphic  Guide.      A  INIannal  for  the  Members  of  the  Third  Order  of 

St.  Francis.      According  to  the  recent  decisions  of  the  Holy  See.      By 
A  Franciscan  Father.     (Cust.  S.Joan.  Bapt.)     Cloth,  60  cents. 

Roan,  red  edges,  75  cents. 

The  same  in  C'jerman  at  the  same  prices. 
Sermons  for  the  Sundays  and  Chief  Festivals  of  the  Ecclesiastical 
Year.     With  Two  Courses  of  Tenten  Sermons  and  a  Triduum  for  the 
Forty  Flours.     By  Rev.  Julius  Pottgeisser,  S.J.      From  the  German 
by  Rev.  James  Conway,  S.J.     2  vols:,  i2mo,  cloth,  7ift,  %2  50 

Sermons  Moral  and  Dogmatic    on   the   Fifteen   Mysteries   of 

the   Holy   Rosary.     By  Rev.    i\I.   J.   Frixgs.     Translated  by  J.   R. 

Robinson.      i2mo,  cloth,  net,  %i  00 

Short  Stories  on  Christian  Doctrine:  A  Collection  of  Examples 

illustrating  the  Catechism.    From  the  Fiench  by  Miss  Mary  McMahon. 
i2mo,  cloth.     With  six  full-page  illustrations,  $1  CO 

Simplicity    in    Prayer.      From    the  French,   by  a  Daughter  of   St. 

Francis  de  Sales,  Baltimore.     32mo,  cloth,  net,  30  cents. 

Six    Sermons     on  Devotion  to  the  Sacred  Heart  of  Jesus.     From 

the  German  of  Rev.   Dr.    E.   Biekbaum,   by   Miss  Ella  McMaiion. 

l6mo,  cloth,  net,  o  60 

Smith,  Rev.  S.  B.,  D.D. 

Elements  of  Ecclesiastical  Law.  Compiled  with  reference  to  the 
Syllabus,  the  "Const.  Apostolical  Sedis"  of  Pope  Pius  IX.,  the 
Council  of  the  Vatican,  and  the  latest  decisions  of  the  Roman  Con- 
gregations. 

Vol.      I.     Ecclesiastical  Persons.     8vo,  cloth,  net,  $2  50 

Vol.     II.     Ecclesiastical  Trials.     8vo,  cloth,  net,  $2  50 

Vol.  III.     Ecclesiastical  Punishments.     8vo,  cloth,       net,  $2  50 
Compendium  Juris  Canonici,  adusumClerietSeminariorum, 


hujus  regionis  acconiodalinn.    Third  edition.    Crown  Svo,  cloth,  net,  $2  00 

.  The  Marriage  Process  in  the  United  States.    8vo,  cloth, 

net,  %2  50 

Socialism  Exposed  and  Refuted.     By  Rev.  Victor  Cathrein, 

S.  |.    A  Chapter  from  the  aiillior's  Moral  Philosophy.    From  the  German. 
By  Rev.  James  Conway,  S.J.      i2mo,  cloth,  tiet,  75  cents. 

Solid  Virtue:  A  Triduum  and  Spiritual  Conferences.  By  Rev. 
Father  Bellecius,  S.J.  From  the  Latin,  by  a  Father  of  the  Society 
OF  Jesus.     With  the  permission  of  Superiors.     i6mo,  cloth,  60  cents. 


BENZIGER  BROTHERS'  STANDARD  CATHOLIC  BOOKS.      15 

Souvenir    of   the    Novitiate.       Especially  intended   for   the    use   of 

Religious  Communities  devoted  to  the  Education  of  Youth.      From  the 
French  by  Rev,  Edward  I.  Taylor.     32mo,  cloth,  75  cents. 

Spiritual  Crumbs  for  Hungry  Little  Souls.  To  which  are 
added  Stories  from  the  Bible.  JSy  Mary  E.  Richardson.  i6mo, 
cloth,  net,  40  cents. 

Stories  for  First  Communicants,  for  the  Time  before  and  after 
First  Communion.  Drawn  from  the  best  authorities  by  Rev.  J.  A. 
Keller,  D.D.     32mo,  cloth,  50  cents  ;  maroquelte,  35  cents. 

St.  Teresa's  Own  W^ords;  or,  Instructions  on  the  Prayer  of  Recol- 
lection.     32mo,  clotli,  50  cents. 

Sunday-School    Teacher's   Manual;    or.   The  Art  of  teaching 

Catechism.      For  the  use  of   Teachers  and   Parents.      By   Rev.   A.  A. 
Lambing.     i6mo,  cloth,  75  cents. 

Sure    Way    to    a    Happy    Marriage.  A  Book  of  Instructions  for 

those  Betrothed  and  for  Married  People.  From  the  German  by  Rev. 
Edward  I.  Taylor.     (25th  Thousand.) 

Paper,             30  cents ;  per  100,  $18  00 

ISIaroquette,  40     "              "  24  00 

Cloth,               60     "              "  36  00 

Tales  and  Legends  of  the  Middle  Ages.  From  the  Spanish  of 
F.  De  p.  Capella.    By  Henry  Wilson.     i6mo,  fancy  binding,  $1  00 

Think  Well  On't;  or,  Reflections  on  the  Great  Truths  of  the  Christian 
Religion,  for  every  Day  of  the  Month.  By  the  Right  Rev.  R. 
Challoner,  D.D.     32010,  cloth,  flexible,  20  cents. 

Thought  from  St.  AlphonsUS,  for  Every  Day  of  the  Year.  32mo, 
cloth,  50  cents. 

Thought  from  Benedictine  Saints.  32mo,  cloth,  50  cents. 

Thought  from   Dominican  Saints.  32mo,  cloth,  50  cents. 

Thought   from    St.    Francis   Assisi    and  his  Saints.     32010, 

cloth,  50  cents. 

Thought  from  St.  Ignatius,  s^mo,  cloth,  50  cents. 

Thought  from    St.   Teresa.    32mo,  cloth,  50  cents. 

Thought  from  St.  Vincent  de  Paul.    32010,  cloth,        50  cents. 

True  Spouse  of  Christ;  or.  The  Xun  Sanctified  by  the  Virtues  of  her 
State.      By  St.  Alpiionsus  I.iouori.     Crown  8vo,  cloth,  $1   50 

Truths  of  Salvation.  By  Rev.  J.  Pergmayr,  S.J.  I-rom  the 
German  by  a  Father  of  the  same  Society.      i6mo,  cloth,  $1  00 

Twelve  Virtues,  The,  of  a  Good  Teacher.  For  Mothers,  Instructors, 
and  all  charged  with  the  Education  of  Girls.  By  Rev.  11.  Pottier, 
S.J.     Fiom  the  French.     32mo,  flexible,  cloth,  red  edges,  ml,  30  cents. 


16    ^ENZtGEtt  BROTHEBS'  STANDARD  CATHOLIC  BOOKS. 
Visits  to  the  Most  Holy  Sacrament  and  to  the  Blessed  Virgin 

Mary.  For  Every  Day  of  the  Month.  I!y  St.  Ai.fhonsus  de  Liguori. 
Edited  by  Rev.  Eugenic  (Irimm.  321110,  cloth,  50  cents  ;  mar.,  35  cents. 
2ig  Persian  calf,  padded,  fancy  stamping,  round  corners,  edges  red  under  gold  Si  35 
127     German  calf,  limp,  gilt  centre,  round  corners,  edges  red  under  gold i  80 

Ward,  Rev.  Thomas  F. 

Thirty =two  Instructions  for  the  Month  of  May  and  for  the  Feasts 

of  the  Ijlessed  \'irgin.      From  the  Frencli.      i2nio,  cloth,  }ii'/,  75  cents. 
Fifty=two  Instructions  on  the  Principal  Truths  of  Our  Holy 

Religion.      From  the  French.      i2mo,  cloth,  fiei,  75  cents. 

Way  of  Interior  Peace.  Dedicated  to  Our  Lady  of  Peace.  By  Rev. 
Father  De  I-ehen,  S.J.  Tianslated  from  the  German  Version  of  l-iev. 
James  Brucker,  S.J.,  by  a  Religious.      i2mo,  cloth,  «^/,  $1   25 

Weninger's  Sermons. 

1.  Original  Short  and  Practical  Sermons  for  Every  Sunday  of 
the  Year.      Three  .Sermons  for  Every  Sunday.    8vo,  cloth,   in-/,  $2  00 

2.  Sermons  for  Every  Feast  of  the  Ecclesiastical  Year.  Three 
Sermons  for  Every  Feast.      8vo,  cloth,  ;/<•/,  $2  go 

3.  Conferences  specially  addressed  to  Married  and  Unmarried 
Men.     Svo,  cloth,  «^/.  $2  00 

4.  Conferences  for  Married  and  Unmarried  Women.  Svo, 
cloth,  Wi'/,  $2  00 

5.  Original  Short  and  Practical  Sermons  in  honor  of  the  Blessed 
Sacrament.  Thirtv-six  Sermons,  in  twelve  divisions,  three  in  each. 
Svo,  cloth,  '  fii'f,  $1   75 

What  Catholics  have  done  for  Science,  with  Sketches  of  the 

great  Catholic  Scientists.  By  Rev.  Martin  S.  Brennan.  i2mo, 
cloth,  '  $1   00 

Will  of  God,  The.  From  the  French,  by  M.  A.  M.  To  which  is  added 
an  easy  Method  of  Attending  Holy  Mass  with  Profit,  by  St.  Leonard 
of  Port-Maurice. 

Paper,  10  cents ;  per  100,  $6  00 

Maroquette,    20     "  "'  12  GO 

Women  of  Catholicity:  Margaret  O'CarrolI — Isabella  of  Castile— 
M;ugaret  Roper — Marie  dc  I'lncarnation — Margaret  P>ourgeoys— Ethan 
Allen's  Daughter.     By  Miss  Anna  T.  Sadi.ier.      i2mo,  cloth,      $r  00 

Words  of  Jesus  Christ  during  His  Passion,  exjilained  in  their 

Liter.'il  and  Moral  Sense.  Translated  from  the  French  of  Rev.  F.  X. 
.ScuuurrE,  S.J.,  by  Rev.  J.  J.  Quinn.      Maroquette,  silver  side,  25  cents. 

Words  of  Wisdom.  A  Concordance  of  the  Sapiential  Books.  From 
the  Frencli.      i2nio,  cloth,  «c/,  ^t    25 

Zeal  in  the  Work  of  the  Ministry;  or,  The  Means  by  which  every 
Priest  mav  render  his  ministry  Honorable  and  Fruitfid.  From  ihe 
French  of  L'Abhe  Dubois.     Crown  Svo,  clotb  uei,  $1   50 


^• 


THE  LIBRARY 
UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 

Santa  Barbara 


THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 
STAMPED  BELOW. 


3  1205  02250  4409 


